A Queen's Assistance
by InMyEyes2014
Summary: Emma and Killian welcome Elsa back into their home to help prepare for the birth of their first child together. Based on a request from a friend and Tumblr prompt.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't usually like to do two stories at the same time. I get confused. Readers get confused. Yes, it sucks. But a good friend of mine who is a big Captain Swan fan is currently in the hospital. I can't visit as much as I would like so I promised her that I would write her a little fic about anything she wanted so she would have something to read. So here it is.

Her request was based off of a tumblr prompt about Emma and Killian asking Elsa to be godmother to their child. It was meant to be a one shot, but I kind of got inspired. So here it goes. This is based a year or two in the future of the show's timeline.

Chapter 1 -

The water lapped endlessly at the pilings, creating a soft noise that she had come to associate with quiet moments and her husband. He was speaking in low tones with one of the dock workers, checking the status of a shipment or some other such nonsense that she had long since quit worrying about when it came to his work. Shifting her weight, she ran a lone hand over her protruding stomach and sighed softly. As much as she liked these afternoon walks that he and her doctor had encouraged, they were becoming endlessly tiring.

"Love?" he asked, concern etched on his face as he approached her. "Are you feeling ill?"

She returned his gaze and smiled. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Just tired and ready for a nap. Someone has been kickboxing today."

His hand reached out automatically to her, caressing over the evidence of their child on the way. "She seems to calm when you sing to her," he reminded her. "Or would you prefer…"

Emma laughed, leaning over to brush her lips on his cheek. "I think you just like embarrassing me," she said. "Your serenade at Granny's the other night practically got us thrown out." She moved her hands to her back, arching a bit to stretch her tired muscles. "I'm getting old. I wasn't nearly this tired with Henry."

They walked back toward the space where she had parked the car, his hand resting at the small of her back and her head dipping onto his shoulder. While she had planned on working up to her due date, her father, Killian and even her own body had protested that idea loudly. So at eight months she cut back to the morning shift only. And even with that reduced load, everyone looked at her as though she might break with any bit of exertion.

"Your mother dropped off some of her famous chilled," he said, opening the car door for her.

Emma smiled at her pirate's mistaken word choice. Even after more than a year of living in this world, he found himself mixing up things or staring in wonder at technology that she had not yet shown him. "Chili," she corrected lightly. "That sounds good."

Sliding into the passenger seat, she smiled as he ran around the yellow vehicle quickly to the driver's seat. After hours of lessons, protests that he was not interested in learning such a thing, and her father's bet that he would take out half the infrastructure in Storybrooke, Killian was now proficiently driving her car. It had become a necessity as her condition made fitting behind the wheel of the car more and more difficult.

It only took a few minutes to reach their ocean front home that sat nestled in the trees with a quiet view of the water. She wobbled a bit getting out of the car, brushing off his concerned assistance as she made her way into the house and collapsed in her favorite chair. Her shoes dangled off the ends of her feet as she let them fall with a thud on the floor and folded her hands over her stomach.

"Elsa said she'd be here later this week for the shower," Emma said with a smile. "It'll be good to see her." She had missed her friend since the queen had returned back to Arendelle. While they had seen each other on occasion with Elsa visiting for the wedding and the couple going to Arendelle for a royal celebration announcing the arrival of Anna and Kristoff's son, she missed the easy conversations and understanding that they had developed.

Killian smiled in return, dishing up some of the spicy dish his mother-in-law had made. "I guess I'll be relegated to the couch during your reunion," he said sarcastically, referring to Elsa's last visit. The women had spent so much of the evening talking that Killian had fallen asleep in the living room as the girls spent the night in the couple's bedroom talking about adventures and training techniques. He did not begrudge his wife's happiness though and happily called Elsa the sister that his wife never had.

"At least one night," Emma teased back, blowing on the spoon before taking her first bite. "We have a lot to catch up on."

Using his hook, he caught her feet and moved them to the side so that he could sit on the soft cushion of the ottoman across from her. "Have you asked her yet?" he questioned, moving one of her feet to his lap where he rubbed and massaged the tired appendage.

"I thought we could ask while she's here," Emma said, moaning either of the food or his attention. "She's the perfect choice, I think." Swirling her spoon in the chili, she lifted a bit and held it out to him.

"Spicy," he said, licking his lips. "I thought you wanted to get the baby to let you rest."

"The baby wants this," she said with a pout. "Spicy things make her happy."

He laughed, switching his attention to her other foot. "Anything for my girls," he said. He took another bite as she offered it, watching with an amused expression as she closed her eyes and moaned luxuriously. "Is that the chili or the massage affecting you like that?" he asked.

"A dangerous combination," she admitted, looking a bit sheepish as she opened her eyes. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I think you might be more than I could take if you had two hands."

His laugh echoed in their house. "I am glad to see that I can overwhelm you with pleasure," he commented. "You should take tomorrow off what with a houseguest on the way and this shower event."

She looked at him with wide eyes as she placed another spoonful in her mouth. He'd been more than understanding of her physical issues since her pregnancy. He'd gotten up with her when she was sick every morning, asking around to her mother, Granny, and every mother he could find about home remedies when the doctor's suggestions had seemed inadequate. He'd read every book in the library and coerced her son, Henry, to print off other suggestions from websites. When the information contradicted, he researched it some more. Still, his knowledge of customs was limited and the idea of shower had perplexed him until she explained it was a showering of gifts and not water.

"I'm only working four hours," she said with a little pout. "I miss working. I miss being able to chase down a bad guy. I miss seeing my feet."

"You'll be back to it soon enough," he consoled. "Besides, your father won't let you do those things. Don't blame me."

"You're the one who got me in this condition," she reminded him, waving the spoon at him like a wagging finger. "Or was it you? Were you the one saying just this once…it won't hurt anything…I'll pick up some condoms tomorrow?" She smiled ruefully. "Or was that another man in my bed?"

"I believe," he said with his own snide smile, "you were the one saying one time won't matter."

She giggled at his happy expression. He'd been wearing that the majority of the time since she had first told him she thought she might be expecting. While she cautioned that it was not a certainty, he'd gone into full daddy-mode with his head reeling with plans for the nursery and names. That first visit to the doctor to confirm the news had been almost too much for him as she held his hand and hugged him when the doctor said in a rather clinical way that they were about to become parents.

"Any more ideas on names?" he asked, as she slid her feet out of his grasp and pushed herself up with the help of the chair arms. "I think we have rejected all that we had on our lists."

"Eva isn't an easy one to come up with a companion name for," she said, biting her lip as she carried her dish to the sink. "Nadine?"

"I once knew a woman of very little virtue named that," he commented. "Celeste?"

She crinkled her nose. "Eva Celeste. Sounds like a frozen food label," she said. "Madison?"

"I thought we rejected that already," he called after her as she disappeared down the hall. "Or maybe I forgot that?"

"Old man," she teased. "Haley?" Waddling back into the room with fuzzy slippers on her feet and her hair now hanging down in waves, she stopped and placed a hand where her hips used to be located. "We're making this too hard."

"Nah," he said. "Corinne?"

"No," she said. "Wendy?"

He glared.

"Never mind," she said. "Ruth?"

"Eva Ruth?" he tried out the name. "That could work."

"It would make my parents happy," she said, frowning down at her stomach as the baby gave her a really swift kick. "And God knows you try to show off to them all the time."

"Love," he said. "No man is good enough for the prince's daughter. I am merely trying to retain a bit of peace." He smiled at her warmly. Truth was his in-laws had long since given up most of the animosity, telling Killian that he was both a welcome addition to their family and a good guy for their only daughter. Still, he couldn't help but notice the looks that David shot him when he touched Emma or heaven forbid kissed her in her parents' presence.

"For such an arrogant pirate," she said, resting one hand on his shoulder, "my father seems to be able to scare you. I need to learn his technique."

A slight blush came to his face as his eyes darted down. "I'm afraid you have even more of a profound effect on me," he confessed. "From the moment I met you, you've been able to make my heart jump with just a single look." He lifted her hand from his shoulder and kissed it softly. "And you've always known just what to say to me to make me want you more."

"I hope that is different than the effect my father has on you," she laughed. "Besides, you're the one with a gift for words." She kissed his cheek and straightened up. "I'm going to take one of those naps you all are telling me I need to take. Want to join me?"

"Is that a proposition?" he asked, jumping up from his seat. "I could be interested in that."

"Killian," she said with mock warning. "You have a one track mind. It's a dirty one at that. Right now unless you are a giant pillow, I have no interest in you other than sleeping." She placed both of her hands on his shoulder. "Now stop pouting."

Back in their bedroom, she was twisting on her side to attempt a better position. As with every effort to rest, she found herself in a losing battle with the baby. She kicked, moved and even got the hiccups on a few occasions just as Emma felt her eyes grow heavy with pending sleep. "We're not having a daughter," she said to Killian as he watched her with an expression of amusement and worry. "We're having a freaking ninja."

His eyes danced with unheard laughter as he enjoyed the moment with her. He had known from the first meeting of her that she was feisty and guarded with her emotions and secrets. While he learned a little more about her each day, he could honestly say that he had yet to learn all about her. That may have been one of things he enjoyed the most, her ability to shock and surprise him. More than that it was her ability to dish out her sassy remarks to him with such ease. Such moments came easier to her than ones with real emotions.

"So tell me again why we need this event for the baby?" he asked. "I thought our nursery was well stocked?" He'd been working long hours lately, purchasing odds and ends for the baby whenever they were out. She knew he took pride in that fact, smiling happily at the growing stacks of onesies and outfits in the dresser that he had stained by hand and the supplies that had crowded the shelves of the matching changing table. Then he had come across his mother-in-law just the other day with a handful of RSVP cards, similar to those from their wedding. She was smiling and commenting how fun the whole event would be for them, but she had also been very clear that the party was just for women. Killian had come home a little hurt that such a fun time was going to be had without him.

"It's just a little party," Emma said. "Just a customary thing for people we're friends with to give us little presents for the baby. You know stuff like diapers or cute outfits. It's sweet." She frowned as he looked a little hurt. "It's not something guys really enjoy. I thought you and my dad could go and hang out for a couple of hours. That way you're not roped into playing games or eating finger sandwiches."

"But you have to make an appearance?" he asked, curling behind her as she finally settled to her side and resting his chin on her shoulder. "It doesn't sound like your kind of fun."

She laughed at the hurt way he said that, like a child not invited to a birthday party of a kid they really weren't friends with to start. "Honey," she said. "If you want to come, you are more than welcome. Outside Storybrooke men come to these things all the time, but this town is a little more old fashioned. I think you'd be bored. I'm going to be bored."

_**So what do you think? Yes, baby showers are becoming more co-ed now, but Storybrooke seems to be pretty behind the times. So I decided to go a little traditional there.** _


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thanks for the follows and favorites and the couple of reviews. My friend is doing better today, but will probably be at the hospital until her baby is born. So here's another update to tide both her and you over for a little bit. **_

Chapter 2

"You must like some pink things," Elsa said, holding up a blanket that someone had dropped off as a gift. "You're having a girl. You have to do some pink. I've even seen you wearing pink before…happily." The blanket was the shade of cotton candy and had two puffy flower appliques in the center.

Emma wrinkled her nose distastefully. "A little goes a long way," she said. "Wearing something pink is different than have a pink factory for my daughter's nursery. I can handle it, but it's just not my personal favorite."

The two women were camped out in the living room of the house, a bowl of popcorn between them as a movie droned in the background. Reaching over, Emma grabbed another handful of the salty snack and chased it down with a gulp from her bottled water. As usual, her royal friend ate a bit more daintily, picking one kernel at a time. So far they had discussed Anna's new son, a push to open bring a diplomatic mission to the Southern Isles, Emma's baby brother, a new magical technique that Elsa had offered to show Emma, and of course the pending arrival of the new baby.

"Thank you for being here," Emma said sincerely, hoping to move the topic from the endless discussion of nursery colors and themes. "It is really good to see you."

"You too," Elsa said. "This town is a second home to me." She looked around the living room appraisingly. "And this place is wonderful. You have more space than at your parent's loft."

Emma nodded, a proud look settling over her as she snuggled into the cushions. "I love it here," she admitted with a contented sigh. "It's perfect."

Elsa smiled back shrewdly. "That doesn't make you a bit scared?" she asked. "The Emma I know is not very comfortable with perfect." The words echoed those from Emma and Killian's wedding day when Elsa had shooed everyone away to have a moment alone with the bride, telling her that nerves were perfectly acceptable and that sometimes things were just as wonderful as they seemed. For a woman who was always waiting on the other shoe to drop, the words were just what she needed to hear.

Pointing to her stomach with both hands, Emma chuckled. "I'm not really in the right shape to run," she said. "Besides, you're right. Sometimes life is just plain good."

"I don't think I used those words exactly," Elsa said. "But I'll take the credit anyway." Her eyes looked down at the bulge Emma carried out front. "I can't believe you're having a baby. I was here for your first date with him and now…"

Emma giggled, a sound that came more freely now. "I know, right?" she said. "It's all so very domestic and crazy. Who would have ever thought someone like Captain Hook would be excited about being a father?"

"I think that's pretty wonderful," Elsa admitted. "You're both going to be great parents. Though you're the more experienced one. You'll have to give him some advice."

Emma gave her friend the details of the shower, telling her the guest list and talking about what her mother and Ruby had planned for the menu. Elsa promised to veto any games that seemed humiliating, including the one that Emma could think of where guests tried to guess the size of the mother's growing waist. She picked up on her friend's reluctance to be the center of attention at such a party, as she had with her wedding shower and the impromptu bachelorette party that Ruby had thrown.

"At least there was alcohol at those," Emma lamented. "People frown at me if I drink in this condition."

Elsa leaned back and watched Emma stretch and readjust herself. "Is it very uncomfortable?" she asked. "Anna said it was sometimes, but those faces you make are worse than hers were. I can't imagine it be totally pleasant."

Emma placed her palm over where the baby was currently kicking. "It can be difficult," she said honestly. "My back has hurt for the past few weeks. I practically live in the restroom since this one has decided my bladder is her personal pillow. The heartburn is horrible. My morning sickness lasted all day. Things are swollen on me that I didn't even know could swell."

"That sounds dreadful," Elsa said.

"It can be, but it is also really awesome at times too," Emma said. Her eyes looked down at the bulge beneath her soft yellow shirt. "Most of the time really. It's all just really overwhelming at times to know that there is going to be a baby soon who is a combination of both of us. Scary, really." She smiled to herself. "And it is scary to think that we're going to be responsible for this life, but it's exciting too. We're going to get to watch her grow into a person."

"That's a great privilege," Elsa agreed. "I'm glad I get to witness it."

Emma reached her hand out and asked Elsa to help her sit up. "I've been wanting to ask you something," she said. "Killian and I have been talking about the baby and who we might want to be her godparents. We'd be thrilled if you would consider being her godmother."

"Oh my goodness," Elsa said, her hands fluttering excitedly. "But wouldn't you rather…"

"You would be perfect," Emma insisted. "You've been such a great friend to both of us, but more than that. You are so supportive and great to me, especially about my magic. So I think you'd be perfect."

Elsa tried her best to look thoughtful, but the smile on her face couldn't help but break through. "If you're sure," she said, "I'd be honored."

The two women hugged fiercely, giggling when Killian arrived and laughed that he knew he'd find them like that. Elsa immediately hugged her friend's husband, telling him that she had missed him and asking about his new job. She gave him an update on all things Arendelle, including movements of the navy and her own plans for new trade routes that seemed less treacherous. She also updated Killian on the efforts she and Kristoff had extended to track down the current whereabouts of the Jolly Roger.

Emma padded her way back to the bedroom and brought back one of her favorite pillows. She couldn't believe she had a favorite pillow, as that seemed way too familial for her. She was a woman who had favorite shoes or favorite drinks, favorite songs or movies, not pillows. Settling back on the couch she stifled her laugh as Elsa quizzed them on paint for the nursery, plans for a christening, and Emma's thoughts on staying home with the baby for a while. She was clearly an old fashioned type of woman, but as normal she accepted the answers and posed more questions to better understand. She even asked about the odd sounding technology that gave them pictures of their child already and knowledge that she was a girl.

"Amazing," Elsa breathed as Emma handed her the fuzzy black and white image. "Simply amazing."

"Aye," Killian agreed with a laugh. "I keep telling Emma that our daughter is amazing, but she insists that the child is already a rabble-rouser. She seems to be holding a grudge that our daughter kicks and keeps my wife awake at all hours of the night." Elsa gave a shy grin to Emma.

"Killian seems to think it is the baby who keeps me awake, but he forgets that every time I comment about the baby's movement he's got his hand attached to my stomach. I think these maternity tops must have super glue on them for how he's always attached to me."

Elsa giggled at her friend's exasperation, remembering well that Emma was not a demonstrative woman when it came to love and relationships. She preferred to downplay them and often brushed off the sweet gestures of Killian early in their relationship because she did not know how else to respond.

"You are happy with a daughter?" Elsa asked. "I know that many men are so desperate to have a son."

"Aye," Killian said. "I can't imagine a more precious child than a daughter looking just like Emma. She'll be…"

Emma coughed to interrupt him. "Don't get him started," Emma laughed. "He's got her whole life planned, including not dating until she's at least 30. He's afraid that the saying about girls falling for men like their fathers is true. He knows he's in trouble if that's the case." She let her eyes dance for a moment as she and Killian exchanged a glance. "Personally I can't wait to see her get Killian all worked up by dragging some leather clad thug in here for a school dance." She giggled.

"My daughter shall have better taste than that," Killian said, spitting out the words as though they were bitter reminders that his daughter would not stay an infant for long. "And what's to say that our next child won't be a son to carry on my traditions of piracy?" His eyebrows waggled flirtatiously in her direction and then he winked at Elsa. "I could see a lad who would have his mother completely enchanted with his charm and allure."

Emma groaned, protectively cradling her stomach with her hands splayed. "You have lost your mind," she said. "This is a one time deal, pirate. I'm not going through this again. So you'll have to find another blonde to woo, marry, and get pregnant. And with as old as you are, that sounds like a lot of work to me. Better just enjoy what you got."

Elsa was used to the banter between them. Since the night she had met them, they had teased, flirted and shot each other looks when they thought no one else was looking. So as the three of them settled back to watch a movie that no one actually watched because something would happen that confused the technology slow Elsa or Killian, resulting in a long explanation from Emma and more questions from the other one.

When yawning started to replace the laughter and their heads drooped to the cushions of the couches or chairs, they all knew it was growing past time for bed. Killian offered to give up his spot to Elsa, but she said she was perfectly content on the pull out couch.

By the next morning Emma's nesting instinct was in full force and she was practically threatening to pull the sheets out from under her husband to do another load of laundry. Elsa woke up to the sounds of her hand washing the dishes before loading the dishwasher and making floor plan drawings for Killian to rearrange the furniture when he finally ventured out.

"I thought he was an early riser?" Elsa said, brushing out her long mane of blonde hair. "How are we awake and he's…"

"Hiding," Emma supplied. "Don't get me wrong. He's as supportive as they come, but the man can sense when I have a list for him." She waved a stray piece of paper in the air. "I swear I'm going nuts. I can't get this place clean enough and I have already had him sanding and prepping the walls of the nursery for paint three times. Poor guy pretends to sleep just to get away from me for a little while." Emma giggled, knowing that he did those things to have a moment alone with his own thoughts. For the rest of the day he was at her beck and call, no matter if she actually requested it or not.

Elsa shook her head and hushed her own laugh as she raised the coffee mug with a logo from the Boston police department on it. Emma wasn't sure where she had picked it up, but it was obviously hers. Distractedly Emma licked her lips and leaned forward. "Okay," she said with a resigned sigh. "Really weird request, but can I just smell that coffee. I thought I was okay, but I'm really missing it today."

Giggling, Elsa held the mug toward Emma's face and let her hostess close her eyes and breathe in the scent of the dark, hot drink. Emma moaned loudly. "Oh coffee, how I've missed you," she purred. "Just a few more weeks until we are reunited."

"I thought you said the doctor was okay with one cup a day," Elsa questioned.

"He is, but Killian's not convinced I can stop at just one," she said eyeing the coffee and breathing the scent in deeply. "He may have a point."

"Watch her," Killian said as he emerged from the bedroom, dressed but his hair messily covering his head and his fist balling at his eyes to force them awake. "She'll dive into that mug if you aren't careful. She's an addict."

"My name is Emma Jones and I'm addicted to coffee," Emma said solemnly as though she was at a 12-step meeting. The joke flew over the other's heads. So she laughed to herself.

Pulling back the mug, Elsa took a sip and smiled. "It's so good, Emma," she teased. "I could go for another cup."

_**Thank you for reading. I would love to know what you think and if you have any ideas for this. It is a bit different than I usually like to do, but I thought my friend would enjoy it while she is waiting for her baby to be born. **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Thanks again to the readers, reviewers, followers, and those who have provided suggestions and thoughts. **___

_**Polkie2 - I am working on something that will give Killian his own moments with David and Henry that will make up for no men at the shower. And even Mary Margaret and Elsa are going to get in on the act of getting Killian ready for the baby.**_

Emma swung her legs from the exam table, kicking the metal drawers underneath in a steady pattern with each foot. She was just settling into the rhythm when Killian eyed her, his brow raising in question to her actions. She stopped mid-swing and looked a bit sheepish.

"Sorry," she said, leaning back onto her hands. "I'm ready to get this show on the road." Her appointments had jumped from monthly to every other week now that the third trimester had begun and soon they would become weekly occurrences. She was getting bored with the room and its faded posters about breastfeeding, prenatal care, and her favorite – the advertisements for birth control. It seemed a little ridiculous to advertise such a thing in a room that only saw pregnant women.

Killian had become used the surroundings too, losing some of the shock at how open and blunt people in this realm were about the female body. During one of her early appointments he had practically punched the doctor for his impropriety. Now he was becoming a pro at it, including teasing his wife's complaints about the tiny plastic cup she had to urinate into that drove her mad because she usually missed at first. "Whoever came up with those things was obviously a man," she would tell him with a frustrated tone when the nurse handed her one.

Not that there weren't perks to the technology and advancements of this realm. He'd heard his baby's heartbeat so loud and clear that he swore it echoed in his own chest. The ultrasound was another miracle to him, allowing a peek inside his wife's womb at the baby growing inside. Even Emma had teared up a bit at that sight, though his eyes were focused on the tiny screen and only his hand was gripping her so hard that she later told him he probably broke a few of the smaller bones. Emma always seemed very much in control in these situations, answering questions from the doctor about her eating and sleeping habits, the baby's movements, and any concerns that she might have.

"Mrs. Jones, your test results look great, glucose is in the normal range, and your blood pressure is excellent," the doctor said, entering the room with a clipboard raised to eye level. "Looks like you are right on track for delivery."

Emma answered his standard questions and Killian listened attentively as the doctor provided information about this last stretch. She couldn't help but be touched by the way he paid such close attention, his intentions always so caring when it came to her. While she appreciated and reveled in the feeling of it, she did sometimes feel guilty that he could love her that much and care for her well-being so much that he put himself second.

After the appointment and a lunch with her father at Granny's, she went back to the station to file a report and Killian off to oversee a shipment that was actually past due. She was rubbing circles on her stomach when she saw her father watching her from his desk. His eyes averted hers when she noticed, pretending that the file in front of him was much more interesting. She shot him a look back that asked him what he was staring at from his spot.

"I know that we didn't meet you until you were already grown," David said with a sigh. "I get that we missed your childhood and your teenage years. We weren't there when Henry was born or when you were nursing a broken heart over Neal."

She sighed, her hands folding over the protrusion of her abdomen. "You can't change that," she reminded him. "We just have to enjoy the time we have now and what we will have in the future."

"Yes, but I can't help but be happy that I'm getting to share this with you," he said warmly. "It's been pretty amazing. You are a different woman than the one who arrived here at 28 and thought her son was a raving lunatic for thinking we were all fairy tale characters."

Her light laughter bubbled up from within. "And now I'm having a baby with Captain Hook," she said, shaking her head with disbelief. "You may have missed things, but we've done pretty well adding to the memories. You've given embarrassing dad speeches. You walked me down the aisle. You've been teaching your grandson how to drive. You've been a pretty awesome father. I'm lucky in so many ways." She swallowed. "And I'm also hormonal and a little nuts so if we continue having these conversations then I may very well drown you with my tears."

"No need to do that," he said laughingly. "I've already had my bath today. I'll change the subject a little. How's that husband of yours doing with all this? Should I be starting a betting pool on when he passes out in the delivery room?"

"You'd just love that," Emma accused. "I'm sure you'd love to show Captain Hook that you were stronger and better at something." She laughed. "Honestly, he's doing well with it. He's been to every appointment. And you know how he is about research. The man's will find five solutions to any problem or issue and then be able to argue the best ones. But I do think he's a little nervous about the whole daddy thing. I caught him reading a book yesterday about language development and when to teach your child a foreign language. He wants her to know French and Spanish before she's ready for preschool."

David shook his head, trying picture Killian with flashcards and a tiny toddler on his lap. "And you're certain that you want to have a child with this man?" David asked, sounding much like he had on her wedding day. Then he'd offered to push her over the town line and tie Killian up in one of the mines for safe keeping. "The dwarfs will help me out and dispose of the body. You just say the word. So make sure this is what you want."

"I'm sure," she laughed. "It's too late to turn back now."

Emma handed him the report she needed to complete and kissed his cheek. "Elsa's in town so I'm going to try to spend more time with her and check in on mom and the party plans."

"Your mother has become a one woman bakery," he said. "She's been up all hours trying out recipes and telling me I can't eat them because she needs to 'perfect' them before your shower. She's getting obsessed." He pulled his phone in front of his face. "Speaking of Snow…She wants me to entertain Neal to let her have a few more hours of baking without a toddler under foot."

The scents of vanilla, cinnamon and nutmeg were permeating the air at the Nolan apartment with cookies and other pastries sitting out on racks to cool as Mary Margaret mixed another batch by hand. It was not a requirement for the grandmother to be to do so much of the work, but she had volunteered after Granny had graciously agreed to provide both a location for the baby shower and a large assortment of appetizers for the event.

"You're really in the zone," Ruby had said as she dropped off another load of flour and sugar when the princess ran out of supplies. "Maybe we should hire you at the diner?"

"I don't think I'm cut out for it," Mary Margaret complained, her laugh ringing out in the small kitchen area. "This is killing me."

David had long since abandoned the effort, feigning an interest in a toddler playground excursion with his son rather than have his hand slapped again for trying to sample the desserts. Proud as he was to be a grandfather again, he was becoming overwhelmed with the plans for a baby shower he was not even invited to attend. Each day more RSVP notices arrived at the loft's stuffed mailbox and every place he went there were questions about possible gift ideas for the pending arrival. He'd already threatened to take a fishing trip with Henry and Killian just to avoid the surrounding mayhem.

"Fine," Mary Margaret had said with a trace of flour on one of her cheeks. "But you're still going over there to help him paint the nursery. Emma doesn't need to be smelling paint fumes. It's bad for the baby."

He knew better than to argue with his wife over that detail, but he was also aware of the slow progress on the nursery at his daughter's home. So far Emma had changed her mind from pink to beige to yellow to green and was now considering an eggplant color that Killian had mistakenly called purple. That resulted in a lectures from half the women in Storybrooke.

Emma and Elsa arrived just as Mary Margaret was loading another cookie sheet, both smiling and giggling like school chums. Though Elsa had lived with them for a few weeks, Mary Margaret had to admit that she did not know the woman as well as her daughter. She'd actually been rather intimidated by her stoic grace and regal assertiveness when she first met her, but that was all a bit of a show since the two blonde women could honestly gab and gossip about anything. Elsa, Mary Margaret realized was just a woman performing her duty and responsibilities that had been thrust upon her due to circumstance. So young to be left to rule a kingdom, the woman rarely let her guard down and more rarely let anyone inside. Mary Margaret knew that she and Emma were more alike than most people thought, though it had little to do with their magic.

"How many people are coming to this thing?" he daughter asked, digging a spoon into a bowl of the cookie dough.

Mary Margret slapped her hand away with a warning about raw eggs. "I'm not sure on the count yet," she shrugged. "But nobody's not coming."

Emma climbed onto one of the barstools and frowned. "I guess it is too late to remind you that we don't have to go all out on this, right?" she mused. "This is like the wedding all over again." Her mother seemed to like the more elaborate party ideas, leaving Emma sometimes flabbergasted at the details and wishing for a simple dinner at Granny's or even pizza and a DVD.

"Emma," her mother chastised, carefully measuring out a spoonful of the dough into a perfect ball. "It's a baby shower. These people are coming because they love you and want to celebrate with you."

Emma exchanged a look with Elsa. "They're coming for the free food and a chance to say they were eating with Snow White," she grumbled. "Besides, I think these things are tacky. It's like begging for gifts."

"Let people love you," her mother said, placing one more onto the cookie sheet and carrying it to the oven.

"It's what a good princess does," Elsa said with a wink when Mary Margaret's back was turned. "You won't have to do much. Just sit there and let people hug you and give you things."

Emma cringed in an over exaggerated way. "That is terrifying," she said. "Almost as bad as the videos they made us watch in birthing class."

Mary Margaret looked to her daughter, assessing just how much of the conversation was jest and how much was her daughter's defensive take on anything with emotional prominence. "We can cancel if you like," she said slowly. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Too late," Emma declared. "I've been uncomfortable for weeks. The shower is going to be great. Just promise me no speeches. I got pregnant. I didn't cure a deadly disease or break another curse." She turned back to Elsa. "And you'll be there to pull me away from any overzealous huggers, right?"

"It is my duty," Elsa laughed. "You weren't so bad about your bridal shower. I think you even enjoyed yourself."

Emma reached over and grabbed one of the peanut butter cookies, breaking off a piece to eat. "That was different. I wasn't carrying 20 pounds-plus of baby weight so I could run if I had to do it. Plus this," she pointed at her stomach, "seems to come with a sign that says please touch and talk to me like Emma doesn't exist. Random people have been putting their hands on my belly and if one more woman tells me her birthing story from the Enchanted Forest, I'm going to scream."

"She hasn't changed much at all," Elsa said to Mary Margaret, balancing the train of her dress over her arm. "I'm here to help. Tell me what to do."

Mary Margaret pointed to a stack of food containers at the end of the counter. "You can start putting the cooled ones in those boxes," she said. "I can't believe I made this many. Maybe we should have a bake sale for the school or something."

"You could always send some with the guys," Emma said. "You know Henry would love that."

Elsa set to work as Emma updated her mother on the latest doctor appointment findings and avoided discussion of baby names. Mary Margaret had been pretty vocal in her desire for certain names, but Emma had vetoed the choices as old-fashioned and odd. The mother daughter relationship was always a bit of a struggle, even in the closest of families. Emma had been learning how to keep her mother happy but at bay at the same time.

"You'll want to stay home with the baby though," her mother said, starting the conversation that had happened every time the two women got together. "There's nothing wrong with being a stay at home mom. I'm sure you'd find it rewarding." Her own struggles to balance motherhood and public office had been difficult, but she did admit to her daughter that she regretted having to find that balance at all.

"But I love my job," Emma said. "I'd go nuts at home all day with just a baby to talk to and never getting to have the satisfaction of catching the bad guy. I think I'll try to balance it all."

"I'm just saying that it could be good for the baby," her mother insisted. "And you would have time to bond with her."

"I know the benefits," Emma said in return. "I just think this baby deserves a sane mother. I'm most sane when I am working."

Elsa stacked the filled boxes and smiled sympathetically at Emma. "Well," she said, hoping to break some of the tension. "I'm excited either way. I can't wait to see you and Killian with this baby. She won't be lacking for love at all."

_**Not to sound needy or anything, but reviews and suggestions help my sluggish muse work. Thanks to all!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Here is a quick chapter that includes the baby shower. It is hard enough to come up with gifts when I am buying for friends and family. This was really tough to come up with gifts from characters on a show to a character on a show! I also would like to apologize for my treatment of David in this chapter. I have him being a little inept, which isn't how I see him on the show. However, for some reason I tend to write him that way.** _

_**sgcycle, thank you for your review. It really made me smile.** _

When Saturday finally arrived, Emma was less enthused than ever about the baby shower, but as Elsa told her, there were no excuses that were going to get her out of this event. She'd tried her best to look like she thought a mom to be should look, including shopping with her mother and Elsa until she found a dress that her mother approved of and Emma could tolerate.

Emma's hands quickly buttoned Killian's shirt, something that he could have done himself but she seemed to enjoy the chance to do for him each day. Rising to her tiptoes, she kissed him chastely on the lips and grinned. "You really want to be on a boat all day with my dad and son?" she asked. "Didn't someone almost go overboard last time?"

"Your father gets a little excited when he fishes," Killian laughed. "He was celebrating his biggest catch and got a little close to the edge. Not to worry, love. I've procured both him and Henry a life jacket. There will be no drownings on my watch."

She smiled, backing away from him. "Well you look nice," she told him. "Very rugged with the jeans."

He swished his hips a bit and winked at her. "You always seem to like me like this," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I should remember that."

Turning around in a circle slowly, she smiled back at him. "What about me?" she asked. "I spent four hours searching for a maternity dress yesterday that didn't have a stupid bow on it. I want to look like I'm dressed for a party and not a party favor." She pouted her hands holding out the silky mint green material of her dress.

"You look beautiful," he said, stepping forward and grabbing her hand. "Bow or no bow, you'll always be a beautifully wrapped present to me."

She lowered her eyes as she usually did with his compliments, a slight tinge growing on her cheeks. "Do my shoes match?" she asked. I should be wearing two black ones, but I couldn't really see my feet in the closet?"

He took a step back and smiled, "Aye, two black slippers that match." He reached between them to hold her hand.

Sighing, she swung their entwined hands back and forth. "You know," she said with a little suggestive crinkle of her nose, "I could skip this thing and go out for a little cruise with you. That sounds more fun."

"Nothing would please me more," he said with a thoughtful nod. "I'd love to spend time with you, but I'm afraid you'd be missed by not only your mother but Granny and the whole female population of Storybrooke. I'd rather not fight them off to save you from a few hours of adoration and spoiling, and I'm quite sure you'll have a wonderful time with them."

"There should be a male version of this," she said, her bottom lip protruding outward. "You should have to play games and let people touch your stomach like it is some all-seeing oracle. I swear I probably have more hand prints on me than a stripper."

"Alas, love, it would not be the equivalent," he said. "For you are carrying our child."

"I know," she said, turning to grab her bag. "We should have thought this through. I'm not exactly enjoying this whole Emma turns into a beached whale thing."

"Emma," he said warily. "You look beautiful. I love you like this and will love you even more tomorrow."

She smiled a bit shyly and was headed to the door when she looked back over her shoulder. "You have to say stuff like that," she chastised lightly. "You know you're the reason I have this baby inside me and you know that in a few weeks I'm going to go through hours of agonizing pain all so you get to hold your little girl. Totally not fair." She knew she sounded a bit whiney, but she didn't care. Kissing Henry on the cheek, she said goodbye and got herself outside to meet her chauffer for the day.

Riding with Elsa and Belle to Granny's, Emma grumbled as the other two women joked and tried to cheer her up from her fear that this shower was going to be a dreadful experience. The inside of the diner was closed to customers, something that only rarely happened in the history of the town. Women sat in small groups in every corner with crepe paper, ribbons, balloons, and cardboard decorations in pink and white draped over every object that stood still. Three of the tables had been pulled together against one wall for the gifts that all were stacked in their various sizes for her to open later. Across the bar were trays, platters and bowls of food, including her mother's desserts and a few experimental dishes that Granny insisted were perfect for mommy and baby.

Emma smiled appreciatively and only flinched a few of the overzealous hugs from people she barely knew. Her mother was in her element, calling everyone by name and squealing with delight as they whispered the contents of their baby gifts to her. True to form Elsa warded off the most obnoxious of the guests, dragging the mother-to-be off to talk to someone else when the hands extended for too long or pressed a little too hard. She would fill Emma's plate with some of the food and cluck sympathetically as people offered advice and anecdotal stories of their own parenting or birthing experiences.

Not sure how she had pulled it off, there were even gifts from the other realms that had somehow been arriving for the past few weeks. And after a few of the more tame games – diapering a baby doll while tied to a partner, creating as many names for the baby out of the letters in Killian's and Emma's names as they could, and the perineal favorite of stealing safety pins each time someone said the word baby, Emma was led over to the chair by the presents to begin the enormous task of opening all the packages.

"I'm glad we brought the truck and your car," Mary Margaret told Belle as they eyed the sheer number of gifts in the mound. "This is incredible."

Most of the gifts were the run of the mill items, cute outfits, receiving blankets, pacifiers, bags of lotions, ointments, and creams, a few toys for the first year, gift certificates for photography sessions and other milestones. Regina had purchased the couple a top of the line stroller and Granny had given her an IOU for a special lamb ragout that was sure to send any woman into labor. Ruby had found the baby her first pair of black boots that made Emma laugh as she held up the tiny miniature versions of what she usually wore. Belle had wrapped a lovely set of story books for the baby while Ashley had knitted a beautiful blanket that included every color that Emma had been considering for the nursery. Aurora brought the baby a soft pink onesie, but also included a gift basket of items for Emma to pamper herself after the baby was born. Anna and Kristoff had sent an engraved rattle to the new princess that everyone ooohed and aaahed over it as they passed it around. The pile was growing smaller, but still many of the gifts remained.

Elsa and Ruby took turns fetching the gifts for Emma and disposing of the wrappings as necessary. Emma thanked all of the guest profusely and said many times that it was way too much and more than she was expecting. Mary Margaret's gift landed on the little bit of a lap that Emma had left and she looked at her mother curiously. The grandmother had already bought dozens of outfits, helped pick out the crib, dresser, and changing table, as well as stocked Emma's supply closet with diapers and wipes to last for months. Carefully peeling back the pink and yellow wrapping paper, she opened the box carefully to find a blanket almost identical to the one that Emma had been wrapped in upon her birth. Under a carefully embroidered anchor and swan, the name Eva Ruth had been hand stitched in purple.

Emma felt the tears building in her eyes as she looked up at her mom's hopeful expression. "It's beautiful, Mom," she said, holding the soft coverlet to her chest. "But we hadn't told you the name yet?"

Her mother laughed. "I didn't want you to guess what I had done," she said, holding a cup of Ruby's famous punch. "I grilled Killian until he spilled the news." She smiled widely at her daughter's slight head shake. "That husband of yours is a tough man, but he crumbles like a cookie when it comes to you and the baby."

Laughter tittered around the room as the ladies watched Emma plow through the next group of presents that included bottle warmers, a breast pump, a mobile much like the one that had hung over Emma's cradle, more clothing, a few stuffed animals and then a bright yellow package from Elsa.

"I wasn't sure what to do," Elsa said. "Nothing seemed quite right until I saw this."

Her inquisitiveness piqued, Emma tore into the package and smiled at the contents. Resting on a cushion of tissue paper were a comb and brush with handles made of painstakingly polished silver and a matching hand mirror with Arendelle's fine crocuses engraved on it. "It's so pretty," Emma breathed.

Elsa reached out and lifted the mirror so that Emma could see its reflection. "It's enchanted," Elsa explained. "Any time your daughter wants to see her extended family in Arendelle, she merely has to look into it and say our names." Emma tried the trick and briefly spoke to Anna before finishing off the pile of gifts.

As the party wound down, Emma was getting more comfortable with the hugs and laughed as Granny threatened to pull out her crossbow if people didn't leave soon so she could reopen the diner. The party had hit too much into her profits already. Only a few stragglers remained when the bell on the door rang out at the arrival of her husband, father, and son. "What are you three doing here?" she asked giving or receiving a kiss on the cheek from each in turn. "I thought you were catching fish tonight for some big dinner."

Killian chuckled as David reddened under his daughter's scrutiny. "I thought we might pick up some lasagna from Granny instead," he muttered, crossing in front of his daughter to place his order. She didn't miss the look exchanged between her husband and son.

"That wasn't what you were wearing earlier," Mary Margaret commented accusingly, her hands immediately going to her hips. "Why did you…Oh God…Did you fall in again?" David sneered, his face reddening and his hands balling into fists.

"The prince became tangled with the lad's fishing line," Killian commented, ducking a bit to avoid a punch he assumed his father-in-law might throw.

Henry laughed harder, coughing and sputtering as he tried to tell the tale of David's adventure. The prince had been offering advice to his grandson on the finer points of fishing when a tug at the boy's line had alerted them to a new catch. Excited to show instead of tell of his technique, David had run to Henry and tripped on a piece of rope just as he reached him. The line snapped under his weight and his foot kicked the cooler of fish that had been caught over the side. A bruised and dazed man, David dove into the water to save dinner and found that with the life vest he could not maneuver as nimbly or quickly as he might otherwise so the three men watched helplessly as dinner floated away. The women all laughed at the story, Mary Margaret patted her husband on the back and Emma ensured them that she was more partial to the lasagna anyway.

Thankfully dinner was still hot by the time they arrived with all the presents. Though Mary Margaret insisted they unload everything before the meal, the group only grumbled a little worked as fast as they could.

"I don't think I've ever achieved so much loot legitimately," Killian said as the group made short work of unloading the items. "Surely you must have robbed someone."

Emma giggled and then shot her father a warning look as everyone sat around the living room with plates balanced on their laps. With her little brother drowsing next to her on the couch, her son trying to show everyone the newest level of his favorite video game, and her mother sipping tea and discussing appropriate tiara styles for a coronation with Elsa, Emma had curled into Killian's side as her father teased him about how only the toughest of men could support their wives in the delivery room. His descriptions sounded more like war zones and he winked mischievously at Emma's amused expression. Killian tried to keep his poker face, but it was clear that he was a bit shaken by the descriptions.

"Quit trying to scare him," Emma demanded. "He's doing fine."

_**A/N: Next chapter will be posted in the AM on Saturday. It should be a fun one as Emma, David and Mary Margaret all try (separately) to help Killian get ready for the baby.** _


	5. Chapter 5

Emma was turning off the desk lamp and logging off of her computer when her father suggested she stay for lunch with her parents. He left her answering the phones while he ran to Granny's for some food and she greeted her mother when she walked in the door. It wasn't every day that her mother made it in to the station, but she usually tried once a week to stop by and visit on her way to some meeting or event that required the mayor.

"You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?" Mary Margaret asked, pulling a chair up next to her daughter's desk. "You need to take it a little easier now that you're getting to the end."

"I'm fine," Emma insisted. "I've been concentrating on paperwork mostly and I don't even have to get up and file." She laughed. "Your husband jumps up every time I even try to get out of this chair."

"He's good that way," Mary Margaret laughed. "You need to be patient with both him and Killian. They are from a time and place where women did very little physically when they are expecting. I was a bit of an exception with you, but I wasn't working a job like this either."

"I'm trying," Emma said with a sigh. "And it's pretty nice to get waited on by either of them."

"There are both of my girls," David's voice boomed. He held up the bag triumphantly as he dug through the lower drawer of the filing cabinet for plates. Giving her mother a knowing look, Emma smiled to say see what I mean. David passed the paper plates to his wife and daughter, placing a sandwich at the center of each and then spooning a bit of the pasta salad onto each plate. "It's not fancy," he said, "but it is lunch."

Emma grabbed the sandwich with both fists and took a large bite. When both of her parents laughed, she wiped at her mouth with a napkin and looked sheepishly at them. "I know," she said. "I just can't help it sometimes."

With a small smile, Mary Margaret patted her daughter's arm. "You're eating for two," she said. "It is understandable and even cute. So I guess I should tell you guys why I wanted to come by today."

David and Emma both looked to her curiously as though they had not really noticed that she was stopping by in the middle of the day. She was usually too busy and limited herself to a phone call or two rather than leisurely lunches or extended breaks. "I guess I hadn't realized there was an agenda," David said, speaking for both of them. "Is there something wrong?"

The brunette speared a piece of pasta with her fork and stared at it before lowering the fork back down to the plate. "Killian," she said, carefully pronouncing his name. "I…I feel bad about him."

Emma swallowed her next bite of sandwich, knitting her brow in concern. "About him?" she asked.

"Your father and I have been so busy helping you and making sure that you have everything you need, want, and…well with you being pregnant all the attention has been on you and the baby." She stabbed the fork down again. "I'm not explaining myself. I'm worried that maybe he feels neglected."

David chuckled and his wife threw him a discouraging look. "You want me to do what, Snow? Give the pirate a pep talk?" He laughed to himself until he realized neither his wife nor his daughter were laughing with him.

Emma thoughtfully sipped her grape juice and looked at her mother. "You could have a little bit of a point, I guess," she said. "I have had baby showers, visitors, gifts, the doctors' appointments are all about me, birthing classes about what I'm going to go through…I guess there isn't that much that focus on him." She wiped at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe I should do something special for him to know that he's important in all this too."

"You want to throw Captain Hook a daddy shower?" David asked with a smirk. "Do you realize how crazy that sounds?"

"Not a shower per se," Mary Margaret said. "I was thinking that maybe you could talk to him, David. Maybe you could help get him prepared. You've been through this. You know how it is to be new to the whole baby, diaper, feeding, crying, sleepless thing. Don't you have some words of wisdom for him? And horror stories from television hospital dramas don't count." She looked at him hopefully.

"If he'd stayed away from my daughter we wouldn't be having this conversation," David said, stuffing part of the sandwich in his mouth. Neither woman spoke as he chewed and swallowed. Grunting he lowered his head. "Fine, he can come over and learn how to change a diaper or something."

Emma grinned. "You sure you can handle that?" she asked jokingly. "I don't want this to turn into a sword fight where Mom and I have to visit both of you in the hospital."

"I'm a grown man and I can handle it," David said. "Heck, I even like the guy. He's okay. He's…well he makes you happy. He's a good guy." He forced a smile.

"Was that painful?" Mary Margaret asked. "I think you might have strained something."

Emma and Mary Margaret cleaned up the remnants of lunch and discussed their own plans for making Killian feel a part of the pregnancy and upcoming parenthood. Emma decided that she would arrange a day for them on the water to let him relax in his own element for a while without all the discussion, planning and preparation that had been part of their lives lately. And Mary Margaret decided that she do something to help both her daughter and son-in-law.

However, first Mary Margaret drove her daughter back home to let her have her afternoon off as per the doctor's orders. She watched to make sure her daughter was safely in, seeing her check the mail and then waddle in through the front door with a gentle wave goodbye.

A few hours later Killian found Emma on the couch with a pile of crumpled tissues and her cell phone dead because the battery was drained. She looked so forlorn and lost that he immediately dropped to her side and pulled her close. "Darling, what's the matter?" he asked. "Are you in pain? Is the baby…Are you?"

"I'm fine," she said with a wavering voice that she had hoped sounded firm. "It's stupid."

He pulled his head back to look at her, his heart clenching as he saw the fresh tears still wet on her face. His hand automatically went to wipe them away, which seemed to upset her more.

"It's stupid," she repeated. "It was the mail."

His head shook slightly and his features contorted in confusion. "The post?" he asked. "Was there some bad news in it?"

"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "I don't think so. I wasn't expecting any, but today when I got home I went to check the mail. You know the delivery man always brings us a stack of mail about 11:45 or noon. Well, I got home today at 1 and there was no mail. He skipped us." She lowered her eyes, afraid to meet his gaze as the cause of her distress became clearer. "I told you it was stupid."

"Oh love," he said. "I'm sorry. That's all it is though? You don't need anything?"

She laughed through her tears. "I'm psychotic," she said with a sad laugh. "I am fine one minute and the next I'm crying over the mail. Did you know I called and complained to the post office? I screamed at guy for 20 minutes. I would have done it longer, but the phone died. I forgot to charge my phone last night and when I remembered I couldn't get down in the floor well enough to get the cord."

Killian smiled at her, pulling her close again. "Emma, it's going to be okay."

"I don't think so," she said, feeling her throat tightening. "All of this is making me crazy and I can't keep it hidden. So everyone's going to know that I'm nuts, including you."

Smoothing her hair, he rocked her back and forth a little. "You're not crazy," he said. "The doctor said you might be a little more emotional. It's supposed to be normal."

"A little emotional explains me crying at every movie, television show, and commercial I watch," she said. "A little emotional is me tearfully saying goodbye when people are just going to the store. Me having a breakdown over the mail is not emotional…it's just plain crazy."

He knew better than to argue with her, especially when she was in one of these states. "What can I do?" he asked her. "Should I go find this delivery person and fight for our mail?"

She laughed. "No, I think I've done enough threatening for today."

"Good, then are you okay?" he asked.

"I'll make it," she told him. "Believe it or not, I was thinking to ask you something when you got home. Then the whole mail thing happened."

Killian pulled her legs up into his lap and released her so she could sit back more comfortably. "Anything you wish," he said. "Did you want something special for dinner?"

She shook her head. "I was actually planning to cook," she said dismissing the question. "Don't look at me like that. I can cook. Actually I was thinking that since you have Saturday off that we could do something together."

"What do you have in mind?" he asked cautiously. She knew he was suspicious of the question, as they did spend most of their free time together without invitation or planning. Plus her usual requests for time lately had been more about moving furniture, helping to build something or picking out frames for the nursery artwork.

"I was thinking we could go sailing," she said, smiling the moment his face lit up with the suggestion. "Not too far, mind you, but we could make a day of it. Pack a lunch and just enjoy a little time without everything being about the baby countdown."

"You think you'd like to do that?" he asked. She nodded, realizing that it was usually Henry who accompanied him on such excursions and she was more likely to only be out with him when there was a work or safety related reason.

"Spend the day with my husband?" she asked playfully. "I think I could manage. One rule though. We aren't talking baby stuff. It is just you and me."

The next morning

David lifted the diaper bag over his shoulder and jogged the few feet from his truck to his daughter's front door. Emma had already left, but according to her text message, Killian was there and just doing a few chores before heading out to meet her for lunch later.

"You don't really have to do this," Emma said to him on the phone, her voice muffled as she tried to be quiet. "I know Mom kind of put you up to it."

"No," David told her. "It's not a bad idea actually. He's the father of my granddaughter."

Emma sighed. "I thought we were over this," she said. "You even went to his bachelor party."

There was a loud groan from David. "That doesn't count. I was drunk."

David shifted his weight as he stood on the front porch, first pressing down on the doorbell and then knocking three times in succession. Killian answered the door, a bit of surprise on his face. "You just missed Emma," he said, obviously wondering why her father wouldn't look for her at the station. "She said she had a bit more work to do before her leave starts."

"I'm actually here to see you," David said, a half smile on his face. "Mind if I come in?"

Killian opened the door wider and swept his handless arm to welcome the prince. "I was attempting to put together that swing contraption that Emma said the baby would like, but I could use a break." He followed his father-in-law into the nursery and stared as the man pulled the bag off his shoulder and dug through it. "What the…"

David pulled out a doll, one of his wife's decorating accessories that he told her looked creepy. "For today," he said, trying to sound authoritative, "this is your baby. She doesn't cry or anything, but she'll do for this."

Killian wasn't sure what he was supposed to do as the prince held the doll out to him. It was about the size of a baby he supposed and dressed in a pink jumper and white shirt. Tiny black satin slippers were on her feet and a crown of yellow curls atop her head. "Mate?" he asked cautiously. "What exactly are you doing?"

David huffed as though no explanation should be needed for a grown man to carry a doll into another man's home. "I'm going to teach you how to take care of your daughter," he said. "You've got maybe three or four weeks tops until she's here. Emma's going to be exhausted and I know you don't want her to have to do everything. So lesson number one is putting a diaper on a baby. This," he shook the doll in Killian's direction, "is your baby."

Doubtfully, Killian reached out and grabbed the doll from David. His hand wrapped around the doll's neck. "Very well."

"Okay," David said. "Before lesson number one, let's talk about holding the baby. We don't pick up babies by their necks. That's for cats or something." He laughed as Killian looked a bit guilty and tucked the doll into one arm as he had seen others do and how Emma had always placed Neal in his arms when the boy was an infant. "Better."

Killian shook his head. "I am afraid this may be quite a task since I only have one hand."

David reached in the bag again and pulled out an oven mitt. "I've already thought of that," he said. "I practiced last night with just one hand and wore this mitt to remind me not to use my left one. So it can be done." He stuffed his hand into the mitt and smiled. "Step one, let's place the baby on the changing table."

Killian listened attentively, only asking on a few occasions if diapers were actually a necessity and not just a luxury. They went through several, David pointing out that it would be harder with a baby who moved and kicked unlike the doll. David demonstrated and coached, telling Killian that a girl would be easier than Neal had been. When Killian seemed to get the hang of it, David shoved the extra diapers back in the bag. "Next lesson is feeding," David explained to him.

If Killian felt uncomfortable, he did not complain too much. He followed the directions again, tilting the empty bottle until it was just the right angle. David was supportive, offering advice and corrections with his encouragement. He moved them into burping next and then suggested a break before learning about bathing a baby.

It was late morning as the two men sat down at the kitchen table and shared a few snacks. The sky was overcast and clouds threatened rain at any moment. "Thank you," Killian said, pulling two bottles from the refrigerator. "I know this wasn't how you wanted to spend your morning."

David took a bottle from him and twisted off the cap. "I think," he said, looking down at his hands, "in another time and place we would have been good friends. I told you once that you reminded me of my brother and in many ways that is true. But in this realm and at this time, you are my daughter's husband."

Killian wiped his mouth and smiled. "I think we would have been," he commented. "And I know that you haven't always been that happy about Emma being with someone like me. If we were back home, you probably would have never even considered letting a pirate court your daughter, let alone marry her."

David traced out a pattern with his finger. "You're probably right, but that would have been a mistake on my part. I'm not blind or an idiot. You love my daughter and she loves you in return. As much as I protested and hoped it was a phase or a rebellion, you two belong together. I'm glad you are a part of her life…and ours. Hey, we need to stick together. In case you haven't noticed, Emma and Snow are two of the most stubborn and determined women you will ever meet. Together it can be deadly."

"I wouldn't dare tell them that," Killian said with a mock shudder. "I value my life."

David tilted his head so that his ear touched one shoulder and then the other, stretching. "I think you're going to be ready," he said. "You are picking up this stuff pretty quickly."

A deeper blush rose to Killian's face. "I am honored that you would teach me this."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the feedback and comments on this story, as well as the follows and favorites. It has been fun to write a non-dramatic story for my friend and share it with you. **_

_**Someone asked for more Henry and the next two chapters have much more of him in there. I will say that Regina only gets mentioned briefly because the woman I am writing this story for isn't so much of a fan of Regina.** _

Elsa's visit had been brief, but she had promised that she would be back as soon as Emma contacted her via the mirror to say that the baby was on her way. "I have to be there," Elsa had promised, pulling her friend into a hug. "I can't wait to meet her."

The two tried to check in with each other every day, talking over the mirror about everything from the kingdom's political challenges to Emma's love for Belgian Chocolate Gelato that she blamed on the baby's insistence. It was more reliable than Skype, but still Emma missed her friend's presence.

Killian tried his best to fill that void with lunches, little gifts, and other surprises to brighten her smiles. She was grateful, but she missed the friendship that she had formed with the queen. Over the years in Storybrooke, Emma had made friends and fallen in love with her best friend of all. She and Belle often watched movies together and when she wasn't pregnant, Ruby was the perfect companion for an after work drink. She shopped with her mother and learned to make pies with Regina in a cooking class that Granny had offered as a way to boost business. She and her father jogged together most mornings until Emma's condition prevented her from comfortably moving at that pace. Henry always tried to include her in video game tournaments or by discussing the latest book he was reading at school. So it wasn't loneliness that made Emma feel that way.

She barely had time to notice with the baby countdown growing closer to zero hour. Finally deciding on a light lilac and butter yellow for the nursery, Killian and David had rolled up their sleeves to paint the room from floor to ceiling. Mary Margaret had already whisked her daughter away to a prenatal yoga class that she had heard about from some of the mothers in her group.

Emma had to admit she was self-conscious when she walked into the room with the other women. All were varying degrees of pregnant, but Emma knew she was one of the farthest along. Her mother, who had come along as her partner for some of the exercises, giddily enjoyed the experience that she called easy and fun. On the other hand, Emma quickly realized her center of gravity had shifted wildly and many of the motions had her teetering precariously over her mat.

"I don't know who came up with that stupid idea," she grumbled when she got back home. Her father had left after a quick hug and his obligatory talk with the baby, leaving she and Killian to inspect the duo's handiwork in the nursery. She was carefully considering if she still liked the plush rug they had purchased to go with the wall covering when she felt his arms snake around her from behind and his hand rest gently on the curve of her stomach. Feeling a kick, his hand pressed a bit harder in the same spot.

"Someone wants to say hello to her papa," he said with a marked awe in his voice. "I believe she might have missed me."

"We both did," Emma said, settling back against him. "Thank you for painting. I love the colors."

He kissed just below her ear and whispered that it was no problem. She sank into his touch and smiled as he continued his attention. "I have to keep reminding myself," he said, his hand smoothing over the light weight shirt she wore. "The little one will be sleeping in that crib very soon."

"Think we're ready?" she asked, turning her head so she could see him better. "Not just the nursery. To be parents?"

"We both probably have doubts," he admitted. "She's likely to be strong willed and wild though. I'm sure she'll help us mark our course." Emma's right hand clasped over Killian's keeping it in place as their daughter again moved. Though he'd felt the fluttering and kicks for months, the look of awe on his face was still one she enjoyed seeing. There was a part of him that seemed unable to believe that such a thing was even possible or that it was happening with him and Emma. "That's my little lass," he commented, a smile breaking onto his face.

Later that night the two of them lay in the darkened bedroom with the low hum of his sleeping breaths the only sound. She could see his outline in the moonlight, a soft glow around the edges of his silhouette. Finding a comfortable position was a feat easier said than done most nights and that had come to keep both of them awake on more than one occasion. Fearing for his health with a lack of sleep, Emma had grown accustomed to feigning her own slumber in an effort to encourage him to sleep while he could. It was easier to allow that than to explain that she ached from the tight muscles stretching, the kicks that felt so gentle to his hands causing her insides to feel bruised and battered, and the constant pressure on her bladder and back. He would always respond to such complaints with as many suggestions and recommendations as he could remember from the books he'd read or the doctor's repeated advice, but sometimes she just needed to vent.

At her most recent doctor's appointment, she learned that the baby was starting to turn and that she shouldn't stray too far or over exert herself too much. "Any day now," the doctor had repeated several times. Killian had taken that to mean any second and was practically rushing her to the hospital at any sign of discomfort. She'd threatened to hide the keys from him.

But the news came with the ultimatum that she was to start her leave now. And after a few arguments about it, she went into the station for one last attempt to clean up some of her files while her father finished up his lessons with Killian. They'd already both checked on her four times since she'd arrived. Reminding them that she was closer to the hospital at the station than at home, she hung up on their debate about the fastest route to the hospital.

Emma pointed her toes and attempted to stretch the tight muscles of her back and legs as she sat at her desk. There was simply not a comfortable position for her either sitting or standing. If she sat close enough to her desk to work, the baby would kick in protest from being pressed against the desk. If she backed up, her back and neck ached from the awkward arrangement.

"You're going to kick until you get your way, aren't you?" she asked her stomach, running a hand gently along the curve to emphasize her point. "Stubborn kid."

The station was silent except the occasional phone call. Most of those were simple enough to handle. A lost dog. A noisy neighbor. A supposed gun shot that turned out to be Leroy backing into a trash can. So far she had not even had to leave the office, not that she could do much out on the scene anyway.

Her main objective for the day was to clean up her desk for her father. She knew that once the baby arrived he would need to be able to find her notes on various files and the department's budget recommendations. Reaching for a file labeled schedules of traffic fines, she groaned as the papers slid from her hand and landed on the floor with a silent plop.

"This place is dead," Henry said, flopping his backpack on an empty chair and leaning over to stack the papers and put them back on the desk. "How do stay awake?"

"I'm a professional," she said. "And I thought you had school, kid?"

"I'm skipping," Henry said with shrug and little smirk.

Emma looked incredulous, flipping her blonde hair back over her shoulders. "My kid skips school and comes to a sheriff station? You're not good at hiding things, are you?"

Henry laughed. "Teacher work day," he said. "My mom's working on something boring and I thought I'd stop in to see my other mom." He looked around the room. "I guess it is the day for boring stuff."

Emma stood and ruffled his hair. "What did you expect?" She moved over to the message basket that David had set up for them on the low cabinet between their desks. Dropping in post-it telling him to return a call to Storybrooke's only judge, she put her hands on her lower back and arched backwards. "I haven't exactly been high on drama in months."

"I was going to go home and play video games," Henry said, sitting down in one of the office chairs and swiveling it from side to side. "But Grandpa's truck was there. What's going on?"

Emma laughed nervously. "Your grandfather's giving Killian a few more lessons on baby care," she said, making air quotes. "Today is a lesson on swaddling and burping, I think."

Henry made a panicked face and then let it break into a smile. "Should I go check on them?" he asked. "I don't think you or my little sister need the stress of breaking up a sword fight." He reached over and grabbed a paperclip, beginning to uncurl it slowly into a straight line.

"I think they're fine, for now. If either of them don't show for lunch, I'll send you over." She lowered herself carefully back into her chair. "So tell me what's going on? I haven't seen much of you."

Henry's brow furrowed as he concentrated on the paperclip. "You see me," he said. "We just had dinner the other night. I spent four nights with you this week."

"I didn't even know you were out of school today," Emma said worriedly. "Not exactly a good moment for me. I should know things like that."

Henry's eyes looked up for a minute, gauging her reaction. "I guess you're kind of distracted with work, the baby on the way, and everything. I'm not feeling neglected." The paperclip as in a semi-straight line and he dropped it back on the desk to reach for another. "You do realize you don't have to be Superwoman?"

"I thought I was supposed to be the one giving you pep talks," she said wryly. "When did you become your grandmother?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not that much of a kid anymore," he reminded her. "I'm going to be 13 soon."

She looked at him thoughtfully, trying to remember how she felt when she first met him in Boston and how he seemed both earnest and innocent. Their relationship was not perfect, as she had to share him and fit into his life where he already had a woman in the role of his mother. He'd adjusted well and never balked at the constant changes and threats that kept him usually in the dark. He moved back and forth from home to home, calling each woman mom and never trying to pit one against the other. She was proud of him.

"You're becoming a good man," she said. "I am proud of you for that. And I'm sorry that I haven't been around for you as much as I should be. You deserve better than that."

He placed his next unfolded paperclip on the desk. "Like I said, I'm not feeling neglected," he said. "I am looking forward to the baby getting here. I think I'll like being a big brother. I'll get to teach her stuff and she'll be too young to be too much of a pain to me."

Emma laughed. "I know you'll be a great big brother. I have some experience with having a sibling who is much younger." She sighed. "I haven't talked to Killian about this, but there is something I think I should ask you."

He looked up curiously. "What?"

"You're going to be a great big brother, but maybe you should be more. Maybe you should be the baby's godfather." She tilted her head. "Elsa has already agreed to be her godmother. It basically means that you will have a special bond with the baby and that you'll be there for her as she grows up. You'll give her advice and be someone she can always turn to no matter what." She smiled at her son. "Do you think that you might like that?"

Henry chewed his lip, his eyes getting bigger. "I would, but don't you think that maybe an adult would be a better choice?" he asked. "Maybe even one of the dwarfs?"

"I think you are the right choice," Emma said. "So what do you say?"

"What if Killian says no?" he asked. Henry had been warm but somewhat reluctant to his stepfather in the past. It had taken a while for him to admit that he was not totally on board with the idea. Sure the man was fun and taught him things that others claimed were way too mature for him. Sure Killian was one of the only people who did not brush him aside as just a child. But Henry had a hard time separating the myths and legends of Captain Hook from the man. He knew very little of his own father's life, but he did know there were hard feelings there. He also knew that his own grandfather was a great enemy of the man his mother had married. Though time and more than few conversations had resulted, Henry had begun to see his stepfather was a man who made his mother happy and was pretty cool to hang around too.

"I don't think he'll object," Emma said.

Emma let Henry help out around the office a little before the two headed to Granny's for lunch and to meet both David and Killian. She was curious to see how the lessons had gone, though David had supplied a few surreptitiously obtained photos over text message. The day was still cloudy and the skies threatened downpours each time she looked out at the sleepy little town. It would be a good day to just sit curled up with a book or a good movie and listen to the winds as they came in off the water.

Henry was telling her about this new project coming up in school where he'd be given a fake bank account and would have to live within a budget for a week. He tried to sound bored with the idea, but she could tell that he was already starting to like the idea of the challenge. She offered him a few tips as they pushed their way into Granny's and found her father and husband in the corner booth already chatting and laughing over some newly formed inside joke. She slipped in beside Killian and turned her cheek up for his greeting.

"Did you leave too big of a mess?" David asked, passing a napkin to Henry who always seemed to need one. "I am going to be able to find things, right?"

"The desk is practically pristine thanks to my assistant here," she shot a look toward her son and smiled. "He came by and helped me from getting stuck in the floor and rolling about like a turtle on its back."

Killian smiled proudly at Henry. "Good job," he said. "Glad she had you around this morning."

After they each placed their orders, David began telling Emma about his plans for a new computer system for the office, which she said she would believe when she was it. Henry discussed his plans for the weekend, which included a lesson in fencing from his grandfather and some charity event Regina was helping to plan.

"I hope you plan to make some time for homework during all that," Emma said with a smirk. "You could also stop by the house and straighten up your room. At least move your piles from one side to the other."

Henry laughed and reached for the basket of breadsticks that Ruby had dropped off moments earlier. "I might find the time," he grinned. "Maybe you could make me dinner? That might motivate me."

David shook his head at the exchange. "What do the two of you have planned? More shopping for the baby?"

Killian eyed Emma, who just shook her head. "I don't think there is anything left to buy," he said seriously. "Emma and your wife have read every catalog, shopped at every store in Storybrooke and found craftsmen to make whatever they couldn't find in a store."

"Like you haven't been purchasing toys and baby pirate things since the moment I told you I was pregnant," she accused. "As for my plans, I think we're going sailing tomorrow and Sunday I have an important appointment."

"And what might that be?" Killian asked, sipping the drink in front of him. "I thought you were beginning your leave so that you could relax."

"I am," she assured him. "My appointment is with the couch, my favorite television shows, and a book." She grinned. "I'm going to completely enjoy this time off – even if it kills me."

Three sets of eyes looked at her doubtfully. David reached into his pocket and pulled out some money. "Twenty bucks says she's calling me asking to just come back in for a few more details by Monday morning," he said, slamming the money down on the table.

Henry took out the two crisp bills his mother had given him for his help that morning and placed them on the pile. "I say by Sunday afternoon." He turned his gaze to his stepfather and grinned. "What about you Killian?"

The pirate avoided his wife's glare and seemed to ponder the question seriously. "She has a doctor's appointment Monday morning so my guess is Tuesday morning." He added his money to the pile. "And I propose to start a new bet on when I get kicked out bed to the couch."

"You're all horrible, awful people," she muttered as their food arrived. "You're picking on me." Breathing in the scent of her lunch, she smiled. "I'll remember this and when the baby arrives – watch out. I am putting you each down for a 3 a.m. feeding."

_**A/N: Since the story is called A Queen's Assistance, you can pretty much bet that Elsa will be back. She has a country to run and things to do so we'll let her get to that and be back for the baby's birth.** _


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Thanks for the comments and suggestions. I'm glad some of the humor is showing through on this, as that is one of the hardest things for me to write. I hadn't really included much Neal in this story, but I'll try to write a little bit for the next chapter. Thanks again for reading and please go over and leave a comment.** _

Henry awoke at daybreak with the sound of metal hitting the floor echoing in his head. He looked around his room, wanting to find the offending sound and make it stop. Staggering to his feet, the pre-teen boy stumbled into the hallway and down toward where he could hear the clanging noise getting louder. His brown hair lay messily on his head and the pants of his pajamas were lopsided with one leg up and one down. Yawning, he pushed open the door to his little sister's room and saw his step-father on the floor with a metal pole in front of him and three screws in his hand.

"You know it's rude to do this at this hour," Henry announced, turning on the overhead light to help the man see the difference in the three fasteners. "Why are you…"

"I couldn't seem to sleep and your mother seems to want more than her share of the bed," Killian said. "I got interrupted by your grandfather the other day when I was trying to build this so this seemed to be a good time. I didn't mean to wake you up though. I'm sorry."

Henry blinked in the light, his right hand shielding his eyes. "You know there are instructions, right?"

Killian looked around at the semi-circle of metal and heavy plastic pieces, screws and bolts, wrenches and drivers, as well as a sheet of stickers to decorate the mechanical swing. "I fail to see any."

Henry picked up the cardboard box that Killian had obviously emptied on the floor by dumping the parts in a pile. He looked in it, shook it, and frowned. "Okay plan b is that we look up the instructions on the Internet. I'll do that. Give me a second." He ran from the room and came back with shoes and jeans on with his pajama top. In his hand are three sheets of instructions for the swing.

"How do you know how to do this?" Killian asked as Henry sank to the floor and began sorting the parts according to the diagram. "To build things and find instructional manuals?"

Henry smiled as he shrugged. "I may have two moms, but I've never really had a guy around until you. So I had to know how to do these things. My mom – Regina – would hire someone to build birthday gifts and stuff, but otherwise I learned to do it."

Henry read the top sheet and began inserting and attaching parts. "That's quite a skill," Killian said appreciatively.

Inspecting the main brace, he adjusted the torque carefully and began to work again. His nose would scrunch up as he read the instructions and inspected his own work, but it was always evident when he understood as his eyes would light up and he'd smile brightly. "Did my mom talk to you about the thing?" he asked, his expression hopeful but his voice sounded shy. He looked back to his work and continued the efforts.

"About you being Eva's godfather, yes," Killian said. "I think that would be a brilliant notion. It is an impressive responsibility, but I believe you to be up to the task." He reached his hand out to stabilize the piece that wobbled as Henry bolted it to the motor casing.

An even prouder smile split Henry's face. "Being a big brother is a big responsibility too," he said. "Mom and Elsa both told me how they feel like they have to be responsible for their younger brother and sister. Elsa said that isn't a feeling that ever goes away. So Eva and I will always have that connection."

Sadness clouded over Killian's face for a moment before he nodded in agreement. "I was the younger brother," he said softly. "I had an older brother who was the one who watched out for me, cared for me, teased me, taught me, and was the only family I had for a while. I wish I knew how he managed to be who he was and to be there for me too." Killian cleared his throat and offered Henry a smile. "But I think there is something in some people that make them a great older sibling. You have that. I know that she's going to follow you around, drive you insane with her questions and wanting to be like you, and loving you like nobody else."

"That sounds scary when you put it like that."

"It'll come naturally to you," Killian said. "You won't even have to think about it."

Henry blinked again and laid down the screwdriver in his hand. "She's going to be a lucky girl," he said, smiling. "She's going to have two parents who love her and each other. She's going to have me. She has Elsa. She has grandparents who will be over here all the time and inviting her to spend the night once she's old enough. And when Neal is old enough they'll probably be great friends too."

"She will probably find that all to be too much," Killian laughed. "That's how we all are, you know? We want what we don't have and we complain when we get it. She'll probably think that her mother and I are way too strict and that her grandparents are overbearing."

"That's why it's good that she will have me as both a big brother and her godfather and Elsa as her godmother. We'll be able to be her escape from you guys. We'll be the ones that she complains to when you embarrass her or punish her."

Killian nodded and handed Henry another piece of the swing. "She's going to be a lucky girl," he said.

A few hours later Henry proudly showed his mother the swing, demonstrating how it worked and laughing as she told Killian that she knew her son was the one to put it together. With his school books in his bag, he headed back to Regina's for the day to do homework and talk about the summer study program for science and math that they were all pressuring him to apply for this year.

Killian promised that the next sail would include him, which they usually did. It was one of the first things that Henry found in common with the pirate and one area where Killian felt like he could teach the boy something. Emma had teased in the past that she felt like a third wheel on such adventures, as Killian and Henry seemed to get into quite a zone when it came to ships and water.

There was something about Killian's smile when he was on the water that Emma assumed to be his most youthful expression. The lines of anger and revenge smoothed away and the hardened look his eyes got sometimes was replaced by one of pride and happiness. They had not gone far on their day out together, only a little past the harbor itself. That seemed to be enough for him though, enjoying the pull of the boat on his body and soul while she watched him in his element.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked when she wrapped her arms around herself. "I think I could find you a blanket."

"I'm fine," she insisted, glad that she had thought to leave her hair in a simple braid as the winds cut across the water. "I can see why you are happiest on the water." She turned her face up to the nearly cloudless day and sighed as the sun shone upon her. "It's so peaceful out here."

"Aye," he said, looking beyond her at the soft colors of the water against the green of the horizon. "It is peaceful, but I'm not happiest here."

She opened her eyes to look at him. "You are a pirate," she reminded him. "You must be happiest here."

His head dipped and his hand came out from his side with the palm facing upward. "My love, I'm many things," he mused. "Just as you are a sheriff, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a princess, and the savior, I have different titles too. Though yours are much more regal and beautiful, I am your husband and my happiest place is being next to you."

She let herself smile at his words, then looked at him ruefully. "I'm not going to throw the bet you made with Henry and my father so that you can win," she said. "So you don't have to waste your words."

"They aren't a waste if they make you smile," he said, his hand reaching up to cradle the side of her face. "You seem to forget I spent quite a while unable to say these words to you. I won't let that happen again. You need to know how beautiful and special you are to me. You need to know that I love you."

Closing her eyes, she tilted her face into his cupped hand. "You suck, you know that?" she laughed. "I wanted to do this today so that you would enjoy it. I wanted us to have a day together out here before we were so busy with the baby that we put these things off. It was about you. I was trying to do something for you and you turn it around. I don't have to be reassured all the time, you know?"

His thumb stroked along her cheek. "Perhaps I enjoy telling you how much I love you," he said, dropping his forehead to hers. "Perhaps I feel happiest when I do so."

"How did I get so lucky?" she muttered, pressing her lips to his quickly. "I think sometimes you must be some strange fantasy or dream of mine. I'll wake up and it'll just be some jumble of things that I can't clearly remember or understand, but I'll be alone and cold. I grew up wanting a family. I wanted to be loved and wanted, but I never imagined you would be the one to make that possible."

Her words floated past them as he tenderly kissed her, a softness to the gesture that made her smile against his lips. She was wrapped up against him, her hands high on his back and neck as she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth slightly, enough of an invitation to him. His mouth became more insistent, warm and relentless against hers as his arms pulled her closer, laughing as the baby's kick protested their position.

"She's just jealous of the attention," Emma giggled.

"She's like her mother," he said. "Very well. We should be getting back anyway." He gave her one more kiss and placed his hand where the baby had kicked. "I love you both."

"We love you too," she smiled.

When they finally docked the sun was getting lower in the sky and hidden by the clouds that had been building, and the wind had begun to pick up. Leaves rustled with the new strength as they headed to the car between fat rain drops. Killian held the blanket from their picnic over her head, laughing when complained that none of this was on the daily weather report.

At home he kicked off his boots and had thrown his feet up on the coffee table while Emma dried her hair with a thick fluffy towel. "I should have thought to bring an umbrella," he told her as she sat down with a soft plop on the couch.

"It would have had to have been a jumbo one to fit me underneath," she said. "I'm glad my due date is coming soon because I'm beginning to think I am having a toddler not a newborn."

"Emma," he said softly. "You aren't fishing for a compliment, are you, love?"

She leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. "No, I'm just stating a fact." His arm was loosely thrown over her shoulders, draping down as she snuggled into his side. "I'm not going to complain though."

He chuckled. "Very well, I will just sit here and think how beautiful my wife is in this and any state. She won't believe me, as she is internally dissecting each and every aspect of her condition to find fault with it." His cheek rested on her head. "Thank you for today," he said, flipping the conversation.

"What are you thanking me for?" she asked. "I just went with you."

"And brought us a lunch, spent time with me without all the trappings of this world, and let me enjoy a day of just being your husband," he proposed. "I know you would rather have relaxed here or gone into work, but you didn't. You did something you knew would make me happy."

She pulled away from him and smacked his shoulder. "You act like that means something," she teased. "What? Like I love you or something?"

"I think you might," he challenged back.

"Maybe," she said, playfully chewed at her bottom lip as though she was thinking. "I guess it is possible."


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: This is quite a chapter length wise, but there is a lot going on in it and I didn't want to cut it in half. Tomorrow you'll get to meet baby Eva Ruth. My plan for the story is to include the birth and little bit of the baby at home, plus an epilogue about a year out. However, since this is being written to keep a friend of mine entertained while she waits on her own baby's arrival, I'll let her decide where it ends. She has been having fun with this and calling it her grown up choose your own adventure story since I've tried to include each and every idea that she has had. **_

Neal was hiding behind a stack of pillows and cushions that Killian had informed Emma were serving as a fort. His light hair was the only thing that she could see from the kitchen as he giggled and squealed that nobody could find him. Killian did a good job pretending that the boy was indeed invisible, searching under tables and chairs as though the toddler might be there.

"Have you seen Neal?" Killian called out to Emma, who was nursing a pan of eggs on the stove.

"I thought I saw him over by the table earlier," she laughed. "Did you lose him?"

"Aye," Killian said, smiling as the boy laughed uproariously from behind the pillows. "He's little a slippery little lad."

It was a Tuesday morning, which meant that Mary Margaret had her city council meeting. David was appearing there to request a budget adjustment for the department and Neal's regular babysitters – Granny and Belle – had to appear regarding a zoning request for the restaurant. Emma had assured her mother that watching her little brother would be no problem, as Killian had the morning off to help her and the boy was really no trouble.

"Breakfast is ready," Emma declared, feeling mildly domestic to be at home and cooking on a weekday morning. She laughed as Killian jumped up off the floor and practically ran to the kitchen table. "Hungry?" she asked him, rubbing her back.

"We've been defending the kingdom for an hour now," he said. "We need our rations." His arm reached around her and his hand joined hers to massage the lower area of her back. "Are you alright, love?"

"I'm just having a little muscle spasm," she said and giggled at his earnestness. "Neal," she called to her brother. "Time to eat."

The little boy peeked out from behind a cushion and gave her bright smile. "Emmie," he cried out, holding up his hands for her to lift him. She looked back to Killian.

"I've got him," he said, passing her and tossing the boy up so that his head dangled over the pirate's shoulder. "Now where do we want to put him?"

Emma smiled and pulled back the chair with the booster seat that Mary Margaret had brought over. "Here we go," she said. "A throne for a prince."

The little boy squealed in delight as Killian lowered him to the chair. His eyes danced as Emma spooned some of the eggs onto his plate, his favorite. According to his parents, the boy would eat them until someone pulled his plate away. He held his fork clumsily and dug into the scrambled dish as Emma placed a couple of slices of bacon and two orange wedges on his plate.

She passed Killian his plate and then began to nibble at the toast on her own, drinking a glass of juice. "Emmie!" Neal called out, holding the bacon slice aloft as she was doing with her own. "Will this make my tummy big?"

Emma looked curiously at her brother, unsure what he meant. "If you eat too much, I guess," she said. Looking at the boy's blue eyes and innocent look of curiosity, she could see a cross of both her parents.

He pointed to her rounded stomach. "Did you eat too much?" he asked, placing the bacon slice down on his plate.

Emma giggled and shook her head. "No, silly," she said. "I didn't eat too much. I'm having a baby. The baby is in my tummy right now."

Killian couldn't help but smile as the boy processed that bit of information. "Did you eat the baby?" he asked, shocked at the idea that his sister could do such a thing.

"No," Emma said, brushing the boy's hair out of his eyes. "I didn't. The baby is growing inside of me until she's ready to be born. Then you'll get to see the baby and be her uncle." She cringed a bit as the boy's inner wheels turned, as she knew she wasn't prepared to answer anything more detailed. That wasn't her place and it wasn't a conversation she was ready to have right then.

Her phone saved her. Holding up a finger to both Killian and Neal, she pushed back from the table and answered the phone. When she came back a moment later, her face was white and she was gripping the table. "It's Henry," she said, looking worried. "They can't reach Regina."

"Is something wrong?" Killian asked, jumping to his feet and rushing to her side. "Sit down. Tell me the trouble."

"He's got a fever and some bad stomach pains," Emma said. "The school wants to take him to the hospital because they think it could be appendicitis. I said it was okay. I need to…" She looked around the room, her eyes resting on Neal. "I need…"

Killian looked at the small boy and back to Emma. "We don't need to take him to the hospital," Killian said. "That nasty flu has about half the town sick right now. I'm sure that's all the lad has, but why don't I go to check on him and you call your parents. They can pick up Neal and I'll come back for you depending on Henry's prognosis."

She frowned guiltily. "I should be…"

"Love," he said. "Call your parents. I'll check on the boy."

She nodded. "Tell him I'll be there soon," she said to Killian as he rushed out the door.

An hour later, Emma was waving goodbye to her father and kissing the forehead of her little brother. Mary Margaret was finishing up the council meeting and Killian was still with Henry, whose diagnosis was still pending tests. Emma wanted to be there, especially when she heard how weak he sounded over the phone. But her own doctor, Killian, her parents, and common sense told her that it was a bad idea for her to expose herself to the germs that may have made her son sick. So she was stuck at home to wait.

With a mere two weeks to go before her due date, Emma was trying to finish each bit of laundry and even freeze a few of her favorite meals for the days after the birth. She wondered if this sort of thing was to be her life. She was a woman used to being on the go, chasing bad guys, celebrating at loud bars, and collapsing into bed without worrying about anyone or anything. Marriage, though she had worried about it, had done little to curb her activities. She just crashed into bed with someone instead of alone. But a baby would mean something else. A baby wasn't an accessory or a mute play thing to bring out when one was bored. Already she was missing out on things like Ruby's weekly girl chats at the Rabbit Hole and Ashley's new kickboxing class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. While they were trying new things, she was folding baby clothes and taking the tags off of blankets.

Tired from the morning's exertions, Emma laid awkwardly on the couch with a pillow rolled behind her back and two under knees. Loose blonde curls waved around her shoulders as she sipped from a giant glass of water with a plastic straw. Frowning, she realized that her foot itched and there was nobody there to scratch the annoying twinge. She rubbed her feet together to try to solve the problem and even caressed it against the back of the couch, but neither attempt soothed it at all. The pain in her back surged again, leaving her uncomfortable and unhappy.

Scooting herself down on the couch, she tried to lift her leg into the air to reach her foot. Her muscles pulled and strained at the effort and her skin stretched tighter, but her arm would have needed to have been a foot longer to reach the spot. Groaning in distress, she slapped her hand at the magazine on the coffee table until she was able to move it and grasp it in her hand. Rolling it into a tube, she attempted again to raise her foot up and lifted her back off the couch as well. Flailing her arms, she used the pages of the magazine to scratch the annoying itch. She was sure that she looked like a turtle that had been flipped to its back with her arms and legs flying and unable to get up.

With an inelegant grunt, Emma pushed, pulled and rolled herself into a sitting position and then to standing. Her walk was an awkward gait as she headed for the bathroom closest to the living room and told herself that she was not going through this again. Even with the urgent need to relieve herself, she was desperately wanting some more water and found herself waddling to the kitchen in search of something to quench her thirst.

She was standing in front of the cabinet and trying to reach the glasses with her stomach in the way when the first sharp pain hit her as though her entire lower abdomen was seized in a vice grip. She gasped, clutching the counter top to keep her steady. Eyes squinted shut she waited for the pain to subside and when it did she moved herself to a kitchen chair to sit. The clock on the stove read 12:34 p.m., she saw as she waited for any other pains to hit. "I'm sure it's nothing," she told herself aloud. "It's just another false alarm."

The clock seemed to change slowly as her confidence grew that it was simply a muscle spasm from her earlier acrobatics. She remembered her labor with Henry with the slow and steady progression of her contractions before the agonizing process of the birth. There was no sudden jolt. She'd been slowly worked into that state.

Her hands framed either side of her abdomen, as if to soothe the baby through the process too. Another pain, a little less intense but still searing hit her and she cringed. "That's not good," she told herself as she looked at the clock that now flashed 12:39.

As the pain again eased, she steadied herself and stood to stretch for the phone. Dialing Killian first, she almost screamed when it rolled to voicemail. "Killian, it's time. I need you to come take me to the hospital." She hung up before she called him any names, thinking that she did not want him to get that kind of message yet. She stared back at the phone in her hand. It wouldn't hurt to call her mother, she told herself. Mary Margaret could meet them and run interference maybe.

Her mother's voice came through tired but clear and Emma told her that she needed her. To her credit Mary Margaret did not squeal or freak out at the news, but calmly told Emma to try Killian one more time and call back if she needed a ride to the hospital. Her mother might have been calmly talking to her, but she was half covering the phone a moment later and barking orders at people to dismiss the meeting immediately.

Emma was walking back to the bedroom to pick up her overnight bag when she felt the rush of liquid and looking down she saw the puddle expanding. "Oh frick," she said a little breathlessly. "My water just broke."

"You call Killian and tell him to stay at the hospital," her mother instructed, sounding more like the teacher, Miss Blanchard, than Snow White. "I'll come get you myself. It will be faster."

Emma nodded, not remembering that her mother couldn't see her. "Yes," she said suddenly realizing. "Yes, I'll be fine." She told her mother that they should hang up, as it was safer that way and called Killian again.

"Swan!" he said loudly into the phone, the sound of his heavy steps on the ground coming through the airwaves. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear my…Are you alright? The baby? Is she…"

"We're all set," Emma told him, her voice surprisingly calm as he breathed heavily into her ear through the phone. "My mother is on her way over." She paused with a twinge surging through her. "You stay there and meet us at the hospital, okay. It'll be faster."

"Love," he said excitedly. "I can be there…"

"Stay there, please," she said, the pain increasing as her next contraction hit. "Seriously, don't you dare argue with me right now."

"Aye," he said quickly. "Whatever you need."

"I'm going to go contact Elsa to tell her. I'll see you soon."

"Emma?" he said, hurriedly calling her name before the connection was lost. "I love you."

"Love you too," she breathed.

Emma's first thought when she got into her mother's car was that it smelled of hamburgers with onions, but she wasn't sure why. Though with the way her mother threw the car into gear and slammed on the breaks, she was sure that the scent would be replaced by burning rubber and transmission fluid. Killian had practiced the drive from their home to the hospital more than a dozen times, shaving off a few seconds in each attempt until the time was under eight minutes. Her mother was attempting to cut that time in half.

"I thought you said you weren't worried," Emma said when her mother reluctantly stopped at a stop sign. "You're breaking the sound barrier."

"I'm just trying to get you there so my granddaughter can be born in the delivery room and not on the side of the road," Mary Margaret said, whipping her steering wheel around to take a fast turn.

"I don't think that's a necessary worry," Emma said, one hand on her stomach and the other clutching the door handle. "You may have left the baby back there on that curve."

"You concentrate on the baby and I'll worry about driving," her mother said, tires squealing as she avoided something in the road. Emma thought to ask about it, but decided better. "Have you talked to Killian?"

"He's with Henry and going to meet us when we get there," Emma bit out, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the handle.

Emma's mother parked her car with one wheel on the sidewalk and was screaming at an orderly before Emma had even managed to get out of the vehicle. "Thanks," she said to the kindly gentleman who helped her into the waiting wheelchair. Mary Margaret was pushing the man out of the way so that she could push her daughter into the hospital.

"I've got her," the woman said and using her hip to nudge the man.

"Mom," Emma said. "Just calm down. Take me to Henry before we check in. I want to see him."

"I'm calm," her mother said. "Don't worry about Henry. You need to be seen by the doctor and I just want to get you in there."

She moved her so fast that Emma was certain wind was blowing her hair back. The chair skidded to a stop in front of the admissions desk and with only a few shouted words by Mary Margaret and a flustered nod by Emma, she was taken to her room. It was a pretty standard set up with a single bed, two chairs and a couch. Two nurses and the doctor had already been in to check her.

"You're definitely in labor," the doctor declared. "You're at a six so a little over halfway there. We can talk about something for the pain if you like."

Emma shook her head and said she'd consider it a little later though her mother was already espousing the benefits of an epidural. Killian jogged into the room, practically knocking into a nurse who was on her way out. Waving his hand wildly, he apologized and continued toward her bed, skidding to a stop next to his wife.

"I'm here," he announced, already assessing the situation carefully. His wife was sitting up in the hospital bed, her blonde hair tied off in a low ponytail and her arms folded in front of her. She was not screaming, clutching her stomach, or even crying. "Wait! Why are you so calm? Is it another false alarm? Are you alright? The baby? She's arriving today, right? Talk to me…."

Emma lifted one arm to grab his hand and pull it to her. "I'm fine," she said, trying to lock his gaze on her eyes. "She's fine. Everyone's fine." She saw him trying to assess the situation himself. "How's Henry?"

"You're certain?" he asked. "The baby's…"

"My water broke and I'm in labor, but we're doing fine right now. The pain comes and goes. How is my son?"

"They are prepping him for surgery," Killian admitted reluctantly when he saw the panicked look in her eyes. "Regina just got here. She's with him and your father was entering the room as I was leaving. The doctor said he'll be fine and up and about in no time."

Mary Margaret stood on the opposite side the bed, smoothing back an errant tendril that had escaped from Emma's ponytail. "Killian," she said as calmly as she could. "You need to sit down. No need to be running around when we could be here a while." Emma wanted to laugh as her mother turned from maniacal driver into the zen woman now chastising the father-to-be.

She couldn't keep the grin off her face though as her husband processed his mother-in-law's statement, his face showing so many emotions that she wondered if he could even speak. Running her free hand over the back of his, she tilted her head to the side. "I promise, we're all good," she said firmly. "The doctor said it could be a few hours."

"But are you in pain?" he asked. "On the phone…"

"I was having a contraction," Emma patiently explained. "Just like they said would happen, I keep having them. I'll have another one in a few minutes." She shot a look at her mother. "You'll see what I'm like then. I'm pretty horrible."

Mary Margaret folded the blanket on the bed a little straighter. "Emma, you're fine. Labor is called labor for a reason. Nobody expects you to be sweet and kind during it. It hurts like hell."

Killian pulled the chair up closer to the bed and sat down, his eyes keenly searching for any sign of distress or discomfort on Emma. When she resettled herself she groaned a bit, causing him to shoot back up and stare angrily at the machine monitoring her progress. Both women laughed at his expression.

"I'm going to go see if Elsa made it through okay and check about Henry," Mary Margaret said, kissing her daughter's forehead. She was two steps away when she turned back and approached Killian with her arms extended. Rather than a hug, she placed one hand on each shoulder and looked at him. "Don't argue with her," she told him in her best teacher/mother voice. "Emma's going to need you to be a calm and supportive influence on her, not a raving lunatic. Stop worrying. She's strong and the baby is too. Women do this every day."

He looked shocked at her small lecture and without a word bobbed his head up and down.

"Good," she said. "Now, I'm going to be back in a few minutes. Killian, calm…"

He winced as she squeezed his shoulders again and then abruptly turned to leave. "I'm sorry, love," he said to Emma as the door closed. "I just hate the thought…"

Emma held up her hand to tell him to wait a moment, her face scrunched and her lips pursed outward. "One's coming now," she said with an exerted breath. "Let me just get through it." She took a deep breath in and tried to let it out slowly as she had been taught in her birthing class. All she could think was that the people in that class lied, as the breathing did nothing to relieve the pain and only made her feel silly.

Killian's eyes widened as she rolled her neck backward and her hand clutched the end of the blanket. "Better?" he asked weakly as she finally opened her eyes.

"Yeah," she lied and frowned. "It's going to get much worse, you know. These pains are nothing compared to what I'll be feeling later. You sure you can handle this?"

He chuckled, assuring her that he was sure about it all. "What about you?" he asked, his eyes losing some of their panic. "Was there anything else you wanted to do before the baby arrived?"

She grinned back. "I guess it is too late to say we should have considered adopting a child or surrogacy."

"Perhaps," he said. "I knew that this day would arrive, but it is hard to grasp that it is here already." He only looked a little scared.

He was breathing with her through another contraction when her mother and Elsa bounded into the room. Her mother stood at the foot of the bed and Elsa and Killian on either side of the patient. Emma finally looked up as the pain began to subside again. "You're here," she said, holding up her right arm to hug her friend close to her. "I'm glad."

"Wouldn't have missed it," Elsa assured her. "Your father wanted me to bet part of the treasury on how long until Hook passes out." Emma and Mary Margret both concealed their smiles while Killian looked miffed at the suggestion.

"He's doing great," Emma said, squeezing his hand. "He's a real pro."

The group tried to talk to Emma, keeping her mind off of the coming contractions. Each took turns laughing and telling funny stories, remembering past incidents, and even talking about what they were going to do once the baby arrived. Everyone was much calmer by the time David arrived, a sleeping Neal on his shoulder.

"This sounds way too relaxed," he said as he entered the room. Killian had been telling them a tale about someone on his crew thinking the Jolly Roger was haunted and how the other members of the crew had taken turns making noises and moving objects to scare the man. All three women laughed uproariously at the tale that included very animated facial expressions by the orator. "I thought you were having a baby in here."

"We're just chatting while we wait," Mary Margaret said, hugging herself into his side. "Killian is trying to keep us entertained."

"Not an easy task without your flask," David ventured, leaning down to kiss his daughter's head while Elsa stepped to the side. "You doing alright, honey?"

Emma was about to tell him that she was fine and that there was nothing to worry about when her next contraction seized her. Stronger than the last few, she squeezed her eyes shut and did not do the breathing that she had been trying to follow until a gentle reminder from Killian told her to take a deep breath in. As the pain eventually began to subside, she opened her eyes to see four sets of eyes looking back at her with concern, pride, curiosity and elation.

"This is like being an animal at the zoo," Emma said with a short laugh. "You guys are looking at me like the baby is going to pop out now."

Elsa grinned. "I suppose we are getting to be a big crowd," she said. "Perhaps you would like a little bit of time with your parents." She pointed to Killian. "You can take me to get a coffee and they can chat with Emma for a little while. I want to hear more about this ghost on the ship anyway." Reaching over, she picked Neal up from his father's embrace.

Killian kissed his wife and looked a bit sad to leave her. "I'll be fine," she said. "Go get some coffee with Elsa. It'll give you energy for when this really gets going."

He hesitated and David playfully pushed him toward the door. "We've got this," he said. "Remember…don't argue with the woman in labor."

**A/N: Poor Henry. In writing this I went back to my own experiences in labor. My son had to have his appendix out while I was in labor, which was horrible for me. I kept wanting to be there and couldn't be because of the baby. His own birth was in the middle of a terrible outbreak of a stomach virus. My doctor kept warning me not to be around sick people so I felt very helpless. Everyone I knew had it and I was afraid I'd give birth alone with everyone else so sick. **


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: So this is another long chapter. I could have split it, but with my writing time starting to get shorter (school just started back for me), I didn't want to drag it out too much longer. I will tell you that the end of this chapter is my friend's favorite part. She called me at 2 a.m. to tell me that so I should hope she was telling the truth. **____** If I have planned correctly there should be 3ish more chapters, including the epilogue. **_

_**Nan7 – I didn't really plan out the timing issue on this since I've sort of written it in a hurry. I think I'm picturing a 3ish year old Neal. He's actually hard for me to write since he's still a baby on the show and so I have no reference for him at all. So I picture my son at that age when I'm trying to include him. For example my son inexplicably referred to cookies as duckies until he was about 5 years old. **_

Emma decided that whoever made the clock in her room at the hospital had horrible sense of humor, as it seemed to mock her with its slowness. And whoever designed hospital gowns was obviously punishing pregnant women because the thin, stiff material seemed to bunch and gather in odd ways. Each time she moved it felt like it rode up higher around her hips and the ties in the back became loser. However, with the number of times and quantity of medical people who examined her, she was beginning to wonder if she should just be naked anyway.

Her father was stroking her hair, telling her he was proud of her, which made her cringe a bit. It was one thing to be happy for a woman having a baby, worried for them too, but proud was not a word she associated with the situation. She had not done anything yet to prove her mothering abilities on an infant. She told him as much.

"I have no doubt that you will," he said. "You tend to do everything 100% so I anticipate you running after a perp and giving instructions to a babysitter at the same time. You'll be reading case files while you rock her to sleep. Your daughter's first words will probably be, 'you're under arrest.'"

"Or bloody hell," Emma suggested, smiling up to her father's shining eyes. "You realize that this kid is going to be more like Killian than me. He has that sort of influence."

"That is a terrifying thought," David said with a laugh. "Why don't we pray that she is a mix of both of you?"

Emma breathed her way through another contraction as her parents looked on and held her hands. Her mother was trying to tell her to just scream if she felt like it, as nobody dared to criticize a woman in labor. Her father threatened to find the doctor to get medication for her and everyone else who might enter the room. She tried to assure him that her labor with Henry had been more painful but faster.

"It's hard to see your child in pain," Mary Margaret told her when Emma said they really didn't have to worry each and every contraction.

"Way to make this all about you," Emma teased. "Do you think you could go convince Killian and Elsa to bring me back a coffee? That might…"

"Emma," her father said warningly. "You know better than that." Something about the way he said it was similar to the way a father would chastise a school age child. She knew that they both could imagine him saying that to her after she got in trouble for some small infraction though they had never had that experience.

Just a floor away Elsa was carrying two cups of coffee to a table by the window and laughing at the almost sad expression on Killian's face as Neal groggily asked for something she did not understand. When he looked surprised that she was the one carrying the items, she laughed. "You aren't fooling me," she told him. "Your hand is shaking so bad that I didn't trust you to carry anything."

"You really wanted coffee so badly?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I developed a taste for it during my first visit here," she said. "Now I enjoy it whenever I visit. Plus it gave Emma some space. She's not really keen on big crowds and lots of attention."

"You do know her well," he smirked watching as Neal scampered over to the woman, grabbing her arm tightly.

"Ducky," the boy said more emphatically than before. Elsa looked confused.

"Is he asking for a duck?" she questioned Killian.

The man smiled and stood up to go to the counter. "He wants a cookie," he said, understanding the boy's verbiage.

"Okay so you might have some skills in this area, after all," Elsa declared when he came back with a cookie for the boy. Neal's face lit up and he blew a crumb laced kiss at his sister's husband. "But you're still a nervous ninny."

He saw the way the surface of the dark drink rippled in its cup as he held it. She had a point. "You all find so much joy in my anxiety," he mused. "I'm about to be a father. My wife is about to give birth. It is remarkable that I can function at all. Not all of us can be as cool under pressure as you, your highness." He gave a small smile. "Those aren't words I thought I would say."

"This realm is quite remarkable," Elsa said, tearing off the end of a packet of sugar to pour in her coffee. "Kristoff was kept out of the room and nowhere near Anna until after the baby was born. That's not something you see in this realm though. You are really going to be in the room with her the whole time?"

He chuckled. "I wasn't so sure on that at all," he admitted. "But Emma said that's what she wanted."

"So you couldn't say no," Elsa interjected. "Perhaps you being there will give Emma a chance to worry about something other than herself. You'll distract her."

His blue eyes shifted toward the clear day outside. "As scary as it is that this all is happening," he said, lifting the cup to his mouth and lowering it before he ever took a sip, "I can't resist the feeling that what lies next is even more terrifying."

"Diapers, feedings, and crying at all hours?" Elsa teased a bit. "You've been practicing. I know you'll find a way."

"More than that," he said softly. "She's going to grow into a person who will ask questions, do things, sometimes the wrong thing…How am I to…" He frowned. "I don't always make choices that Emma approves of in terms of morality. I'm not exactly a great role model for a child."

Elsa did not miss the vulnerable expression on the man's face. She had seen it on him before when he worried that Emma might be in danger. She'd noticed it when Emma had clutched his hand as she told him that she was going to be fine. While failure was a worry for anyone facing a new situation, it was clear that Killian's worry extended into disappointing Emma.

"I doubt the child is going to cause any of those issues for a while," Elsa told him. "You've got a while to get ready for this. Somehow I think you'll figure it out."

"I do hope you are right," he laughed, then turned serious. "So have we stayed away long enough? I feel like I should be doing something more profound than drinking this coffee."

They arrived back in time to see the doctor go into the room. Killian joined him and her parents left to check on Henry. Elsa and Neal wandered toward the gift shop to look at toys and goodies that they might want to buy for either him or the baby. After a few trips around the small shop, Elsa took the boy back to his parents and began her walk back to Emma's room.

Back in the room Emma pretended that she didn't hear the doctor whispering to the nurse or see the sympathetic expression that the nurse shot her as she left the room. She grit her teeth and stared straight ahead, waiting for the doctor to put the covers back in place and tell her that she was doing fine. She wanted to scream that at him. She was fine. The baby was fine. Everyone was freaking fine. So why did he look like that as he came to the end of the bed.

"You're not progressing quite like we need," he told her as though this was a team effort of sorts. "You're starting to stall out a bit."

Killian's face was confused and she knew he was not understanding the doctor's words that made her sound more like a car than a person. She did not want to explain it to him right now, instead wanting more information herself. She was in pain. The contractions were there. What did he mean she wasn't progressing? "And so that means you're going to do what?" she asked, her thumb tracing a soothing pattern on Killian's hand.

"We could start you on Pitocin to see if that will help your contractions be a little more consistent," he said. "Or we could get you up and have you walk to see if that might help. Sometimes it does."

Emma groaned, knowing both options were not going to make her feel any better at all. "If I walk, can I go see my son?" she asked, "He's…"

"Well," the doctor said, scratching his chin, "I haven't heard if he's in recovery yet or not, but I suppose we could see about that. I'm not thinking for you to walk a mile or anything. Maybe just up and down the hall."

"This walking will help?" Killian asked, still not sure what they were trying to do but knowing that was an appropriate question. "She's able to walk."

"I can walk," Emma said, scooting herself to the side of the bed. "Fine, I'm walking." Her right hand gripped the IV pole and her left held Killian's as she half walked and half scooted toward the door. "The baby's not going to shoot out while I do this, right?"

The doctor looked amused as he shook his head. "Perfectly safe," he assured them, patting Killian on the back. "But if you feel anything between your knees then I suggest you run back to bed or hope your husband can catch." He was part way down the hall, not waiting for a response.

"Great," Emma muttered. "A doctor with a sense of humor. That's all I need."

The walk was agonizingly slow and she could feel Killian's blood pressure rise each time she had even a twinge of pain let alone a full blown contraction. She was beginning to become agitated. She was the one delivering a baby but so far the nurses had all paid more attention to him, offering him more comfortable chairs, telling him that he could rest in the lounge and one even brought him a meal because he just looked so hungry. He'd at least had the good sense to refuse that not eat in front of his wife.

Even her mother and father were watching him hawks, eyeing his reactions and confirming that he was still breathing, still with us, and still conscious. All she had received were a few, "you're doing great," kind of comments as they patted her foot and laughed at Killian's own pained reactions to her.

When Elsa approached, she uncurled Emma's fingers from the pole and walked along side supporting both her friend and the pole. She seemed to understand that Emma was no longer wanting to joke and tease.

"Everything okay?" she asked when Emma again stopped short. "I can go grab that bed over there and pull it over if you need." She pointed to an empty bed in the hospital hallway. Emma just shook her head.

The queen looked at Killian and smiled. "You aren't looking much like a pirate right now," she laughed. "I'd say you were just as frightened as Emma. Just remember. You don't get to scream and yell like she does."

That seemed to snap him out of the stupor of confusion, his face clearing from all out panic to mild worry. "What can I do, Emma?" he asked. "Do you need to go back to the room? Should we try something else?"

Emma's shoulders hunched forward and her head dropped down. "My back," she said through gritted teeth. "My back is seriously killing me."

Elsa nodded to Killian. "I'll hold her hand. You massage her back." Elsa frowned a bit. "I wish there was something my magic could do to make you feel better. I suppose I could freeze something, but that wouldn't do much good."

The trio was in the middle of the hallway, trying to ignore the passersby and the conversations about various other people. Elsa attempted to sooth her friend with words as Killian kneaded the area that Emma had indicated. As the pain dulled again, Emma stood a little straighter. "Okay that's better," she said. "Remind me again why this is a good idea?"

"The walking or the baby?" Killian asked, waiting on the playful punch to his ribs.

"I get the walking thing, but seriously this is a lot to go through for a baby," she moaned. "How much farther to where Henry's room is?"

Killian looked at her sympathetically, leaving his hand on the small of her back as they began to take a few more steps. "I'm afraid it's another floor away. Do you want me to go get an update?"

Emma shook her head, blowing air out of her mouth in short bursts. "I think maybe we need to get me back to my room," she said. "Elsa, will you check on Henry for me?"

The woman agreed that she would once they had Emma back at her bed. It was slow going, but still Emma insisted on walking even when she was in pain and refused to consider a wheelchair or anything to help her. Leaving Emma and Killian to wait for the doctor, Elsa hurried toward the younger boy's room and found another crowd in there.

"Is Emma alright?" Mary Margaret asked, holding her son on her lap as the boy seemed to be fascinated with her cell phone. "Do I need to go back there?"

"She's fine and Hook's still vertical," Elsa said, patting the woman on the shoulder and joining Regina next to the bed where a very drowsy Henry was fighting sleep. "She's worried about Henry so I came for an update."

The boy's eyes fluttered open and his glassy expression faltered as he tried to focus. "Mom's okay, right?"

"Your mom's fine," Elsa reassured him. "How are you, though? She's going to want to know."

"I'll be okay," the boy said, his voice heavy and thick. "I'm not hurting now." Regina's hand caressed the boy's head and she looked at him lovingly.

"He made it through the surgery fine and he's going to be a little doped up on pain meds, but he's going to be well in no time," Regina said. She straightened up her stance and looked a bit pained. "Tell the pirate thank you from me. He stayed with Henry when I wasn't here. That was…well…nice of him."

David snickered a bit at the woman's uncomfortable statement. "Henry's going to be fine," David told Elsa. "Once Emma and the baby are settled, we'll bring him to her for a visit."

"Is my sister here yet?" Henry asked, his voice sounding weaker as his eyes shut again. "I need to see her. I need to…" Elsa smiled at the boy who sounded just like his mother at the moment.

"I better get you back to Emma," David said with a smile. "You're the only one who manages to keep her cool around my daughter right now."

"Oh David," Mary Margaret groaned. "Enough with the puns."

David walked Elsa back to Emma's room where they saw the doctor and two nurses rushing in with gloves already on their hands. A loud groan from Emma could be heard before the door swung shut.

"I'm going to guess that we're making progress now," David said to the blonde next to him.

The doctor and two nurses moved quickly into position, everything seemingly choreographed from the way the bed broke down to the nurse placing and extra pillow behind Emma's head. She was hardly the first woman to deliver in the hospital and would not be the last.

"You're going to need to be ready to push," the doctor told her, moving toward her with the typical medical accessories. "On the next contraction, I want you to give me a really good push while I count to 10."

Emma nodded, scooting herself down as she was told. Her left hand gripped Killian's right as a nurse readjusted the blood pressure monitor on her right arm. The breath she had been expelling caught in her throat as she tried her hardest to think of relaxing thoughts, make her body feel boneless and light, and every other suggestion that people had told her. None of them seemed to work when your body felt as though it was ripping in half.

The doctor's counting felt unbelievably slow and she did her best to shoot him death glares as she pushed. His instructions to control her pushing and not hold her breath in the process were not all that helpful. Finally he reached 10 and told her to rest a moment. Collapsing backward, she transferred her glare to Killian.

"You do realize I don't like you very much, right now," she said, loosening her grip on his hand. "Don't you dare smile at me." Her frown was evident, pain and exhaustion taking over her body. The idea that he could smile and be happy at this moment seemed to bother her more than it should.

Killian quickly masked his smile. "You're doing brilliantly," he told her, kissing her temple softly. "Not much longer now."

Her lips pursed together in a cross between a pout and a disdainful expression. "How would you know?" she asked, groaning as the doctor told her to get ready to push again. "Women have been dealing with this forever and nobody thought to come up with an easier way." She looked away from him and then sighed. "Sorry. I don't mean to be like this. I just want the pain to stop." The nurse and Killian both supported her as she sat forward a bit and awaited the go ahead from the doctor. This went on for a while with her pushing and then resting, all the while fighting off the words of encouragement.

"I can see the head," the doctor told her, nodding to one of the nurses. The doctor looked surprised as the lights flickered in the room. He muttered something about someone needing to go check the fuses. "Looks like she has a head full of hair."

"I don't need a play by play," Emma whined, her hair beginning to show the signs of her sweating. Leaning back, she rolled her head against the pillow. "Can we get this to go any faster?"

Killian looked to the doctor who shook his head. "Emma, you're almost there," he said. "You've got this. Just another few pushes and she'll be out. Then you can hold her and yell at me all you want."

Her eyes fluttered as she tried to gather her strength, a low hum sounding in the room as again the medical devices, lights, and even the clock reacted strangely. "Seriously," she said between breaths. "You better never ask me for another favor as long as you live."

He turned his chuckle into a cough and held her hand as she got ready to push one more time. "I'll spend my life making this up to you," he said, trying to sound calm.

She took another deep breath, her head thrown back and her eyes squeezed shut. As the doctor told her that this would be the last big push, she lifted her head again and locked eyes with Killian. "You know I don't mean it," she said. "I don't mean to be yelling at you."

"If it takes some of the pain away, then go ahead," he told her, leaning his head down so that his forehead was against her temple. "You do whatever you need to do." His voice was low as she began to follow the doctor's direction to push again, telling her he loved her and that she was the strongest and most beautiful woman he knew. When the light bulb in the overhead light popped loudly and darkened, he just shook his head and told her it was probably old anyway.

She continued to push, feeling like she might never have the strength to repeat the action. She could feel his breath on her and the tickle of his eyelashes against her skin, overtaking the flash of lights around her and the growing scent of burnt electrical wires. That was what she tried to concentrate on as the baby emerged with rousing scream and cry. Emma gasped out a sob as she saw the first sight of her daughter being held and checked over by the doctor.

"Is she…"

"She's perfect," the doctor said. "Congratulations on your daughter, Mom and Dad."

The baby was in her arms a moment later as the doctor and nurses continued their work. Despite the exhaustion that waved over her, she couldn't take her eyes off of the pink bundle, arms and legs flailing in protest at being brought into the world. She was in awe as she regarded the perfect nose and mouth, delicate blue eyes, the 10 fingers and toes, and a mop of dark brown hair. It was her husband's intake of breath that made her glance his way, smiling through her own tears.

"How are we doing so far?" she asked shakily. "Think we have this parents of a baby girl thing down yet?"

He chuckled, running his finger hesitantly across the baby's pink cheek. "She's beautiful," he said simply, his own voice dripping with awe.

The doctor was noting a few measurements in the chart and the nurses fastened identification bracelets around both Emma and Eva. Emma lowered her lips to the baby's forehead and pressed a kiss against her. "You ready to hold your daughter?" she asked, looking at Killian's face.

He seemed in shock, as though he wasn't quite sure that this moment was real or that the tiny baby in his wife's arms was actually a part of him too. When she asked the second time, he nodded his head slightly and folded his arms as David had instructed. "She's quite tiny," he said as the baby passed into his grip.

"I can assure you that she didn't feel very tiny when she was arriving," Emma said with a little laugh.

The baby's earlier sobs had diminished to mere whimpers as he watched his daughter look up as if regarding his identity and role in her life. With an astuteness beyond her age, the newborn seemed to study him and memorize the angles and curves of his face. Settling into his embrace, her eyes fluttered with fatigue and Killian had his first inkling of how much the child might be like Emma.

When he didn't speak, Emma leaned over and touched his arm, breaking the reverie for a moment. "You doing okay there?" she asked softly. "She's pretty amazing, isn't she?"

Killian's mouth felt dry as he tried to put into words what he was thinking. He only managed to say yes.

The next few hours were a blur. Emma's parents were wild over their granddaughter, most especially David who cried when they confirmed his mother's name as the baby's middle name. After telling his wife he wasn't speaking to her any longer for knowing such a thing and not telling him, he scooped up his granddaughter and began to tell her all about her twisted family tree. Much to everyone's protests, Emma insisted that she be allowed to see her son, who slept through the entire visit.

After much adoring and promises of gifts and parties for the little girl, Emma's parents finally departed and took Elsa with them for a little rest and to take care of a few things, including bringing Killian a change of clothes. He had hung back and watched proudly as her family doted on the baby and compared his own features to that of his newborn daughter. Emma would smile at him over her parents' shoulders and he spoke up to tell them all that mother and baby needed a nap before another round of visitors arrived.

He was holding his daughter for only the third time since Emma had been moved back to her room when his wife laughed. "I don't think she's been in that hospital crib yet," Emma declared. "Everyone keeps holding her."

"You're just as guilty," Killian said with a wiggle of his eyebrows to make her smile. "She's too beautiful. We'll have a lot of trouble when the young lads see her."

"I'm sure you'll do a good job of scaring them off," Emma said with a yawn. "If you want, you can ask my dad for tips. He's scared you on occasion." Her eyes were half closed and a contented smile on her face as she watched him with their daughter.

"He never scared me," Killian protested. "I just pretended to so he would think he'd done his duty."

The baby let out a soft sigh of her own, a perfect moment that Killian eagerly wanted to show his wife. However, as he looked up he saw her eyes flutter shut and her head tilt on the pillow as sleep overtook her. He cradled his daughter in his injured arm and caressed her soft skin with his hand, telling her how much he already loved her and anything else he could think to say.

Fascinated was not a strong enough word for the pirate who stared down at the child as though he had never seen her equal. Though everyone had remarked how she looked like him, he could see traces of Emma in her firm jaw and the shape of her chin. He could watch her for hours and not see the same thing twice. From the way her hands reached out to some invisible goal to the way her mouth set into a perfect bow as she slept. Killian Jones was captivated by his daughter.

The sun had already set when Emma woke up again insisted that Killian take his own nap while she had a chance to hold the young Eva Ruth Jones. He only protested a moment before handing over the baby and curling himself up on the couch that had been dubbed daddy hotel by patients at the hospital. She never got a chance to ask if it was comfortable, as he sank into his sleep.

She enjoyed her own time holding her daughter and learning the gestures and motions the newborn had already acquired. When she watched her daughter kick her foot into the air, she laughed realizing that was the same move she'd felt for weeks.

Emma heard the soft slap of rubber on the floor as Henry entered the room, his face paler but bright. "I snuck out," he said softly, looking toward the door as if someone might bust him any moment.

"Henry," Emma said, her own flushed cheeks rising with her smile. "I figured you would. You have a knack for that, you know?"

"Is that her?" he asked, leaning over the bed rail to take a look. "Is that my sister?"

"No," Emma said, watching the boy jump back as if he'd done something wrong. "They are letting us have a loaner until we figure out what we're doing." She held her laugh back as long as she could.

"Very funny, Mom," he said leaning back toward the baby. "She looks like Killian."

"Don't tell him that," Emma warned, pointing her chin toward the sleeping pirate. "He's got enough of an ego and has been telling everyone that he is the father of the most beautiful baby ever. To hear you confirm their similarities might send him over the edge of narcissism."

"She looks pretty happy," Henry added. "Need anything from her godfather yet?"

Emma laughed. "Not yet, kid, but I'll let you know. Besides you need to be resting. You just had surgery today."

Henry looked up at his mom and gave her a sad smile. "I wonder if I looked like you or my dad when I was born," he said. "I mean I know you didn't…"

"I've seen pictures," Emma said with her own sad smile. "You have always looked like your father. You have Neal's eyes, his nose, and his hair. You even sound like him sometimes. And that photo that Regina has of you at your first birthday is pure Neal. I can see your grandparents in there too, but you take after Neal the most."

"You think?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. "I think I look like you."

Emma shook her head. "You have some of me, but I see Neal all through you. I especially see it when your hair gets too long or if you're really concentrating on something. I see it with the way you hold your mouth or if you get annoyed with something."

Henry's smile became prouder as he sat down next to his mom on the bed. "I didn't mean to scare everyone today," he said. Just as Killian had done earlier, he reached out to touch his sister's hand, smiling at the delicate fingernails.

"I'm just glad you're okay," she said. "It was awful not being able to be there to hold your hand. Your sister seems to have inherited my skill at bad timing." She reached out to caress his cheek with her fingers. "Killian's going to have his work cut out for him. Between your surgery and me having a baby, I think we can both demand breakfast in bed for at least a few days."

"A week," Henry declared. "But seriously. It barely hurts at all now. Just when I cough or laugh." He looked around the dimly lit room. "Where is everyone?"

Your grandmother took Elsa back to the loft," Emma explained. "She wanted to check on Neal and pick up her camera. You know she wants pics of the baby as soon as possible. Your grandfather back to get Killian a change a clothes and some of your stuff too. Rumor has it they may let us all go home tomorrow."

Henry smiled. "She's finally here," he said. "I know you're glad."

"And terrified," Emma said with a laugh. "You do realize that I don't know what I'm doing, right?" She nudged him with her shoulder.

"Hasn't stopped you before," Henry said matter-of-factly. He scooted himself up beside Emma in the bed, nestling himself against her side. "When I got you to come here to Storybrooke you didn't know what you were doing then either. But you pretty much rocked it once you let yourself believe what I was telling you."

She slung her left arm over him as he rested his head on her shoulder. "What did I tell you about giving me pep talks, kid?"

He yawned, his breath warm on her upper arm. "That's your job," he muttered.

In the darkened room Emma held her first born at her side and her daughter sleeping against her chest and smiled. She had both of her children there in her arms.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: I'm sorry if this is a little more scattered than normal. I've written in 15 minute increments so my mind wasn't always in the same place as I wrote it. **_

_**I would also like to welcome to the world Eva Catherine. No, she wasn't named after OUAT, as that is her grandmother's name. Her father joked that he was surprised my friend didn't insist on naming her Emma. **_

Emma was still cradling her children when Elsa slipped into the room with a foam cup in her hand. The blonde women smiled at each other as Elsa waved the cup in the air. "I come bearing gifts," she said triumphantly. "Hot chocolate, cinnamon and plenty of whipped cream." She took off the domed lid from the cup and breathed in the scent. "Smells heavenly. You do still like this, don't you?"

"Oh…." Emma moaned staring at the cup with its whipped cream peeking over the top. "You just said the magic words." She frowned and looked at her children. "My hands are full. You mind holding your goddaughter?"

Elsa placed the cup next to her friend and scooped her goddaughter up, dropping a kiss on the sleeping baby's head. "That's a good girl," she cooed. "Come here to your Aunt Elsa."

Emma was already sipping the chocolate drink as if it were a fine wine and moaning luxuriously. Her nose wrinkled and her toes wiggled under the sheets. "You are a good friend," she said. "You bring me chocolate."

"I thought you could use it," she said with a smile. Looking at the couch, she saw Killian still sprawled out on it, a thin blanket draped over him and dragging the floor. "Someone's tired."

Emma took another sip. "Don't be too hard on him," she said. "He's endured a lot today. Henry's surgery, my insanity, his daughter being born, my brother, Regina, dealing with my parents…"

"Dealing with me," Elsa continued for her. "I've kind of invaded your private time." She never let her eyes leave the baby, her fingers of her free hand resting on the child's chest and feeling her breathe steadily. "I hate to tell you," she whispered conspiratorially. "The blanket's pink."

"Hospital issued," Emma said with a laugh. "I'm not opposed to it. Like I said, I've been known to wear the color on occasion."

"Good because I think she's going to be a real princess," Elsa declared, swooping into the chair next to Emma's bed. "Her godmother is going to buy her a pony, teach her about proper tea parties and dancing, and I'm already thinking about what style of tiara will look perfect on that beautiful head of hers."

Emma laughed a bit too loud, but thankfully didn't wake Killian or Henry. "Between archery lessons from my mother, sword fighting with my father, and sailing lessons from Killian, she's going to be a busy girl."

"Of course," Elsa said. "A princess's life is filled with lessons and commitments. Her social calendar will fill up before you even realize." She let her eyes trail up from the newborn to her friend's face. "How about you? Is she everything you imagined?"

Emma rolled her lips over her teeth, making her mouth a straight line. Her breath came out of her nose. "I wasn't ever that girl who dreamed of children and weddings and stuff," she admitted. "I grew up thinking that people viewed having babies as a burden or too much work. I thought for so long that that's how my parents viewed me." She relaxed her face. "But I'll admit that the moment I saw her I was in love."

"Such a strong sentiment from you," Elsa said. "I knew you had it in you. You just like the fight, that's all."

"The fight?" Emma asked, chuckling as Henry's head fell back over her arm and his mouth opened. Tiny snores escaped from the boy.

"Yes," Elsa confirmed. "You would rather fight your feelings and everyone else's to prove that you're right about people. It's easier that way for you…for everyone…to shut people out and then tell the world that you were right that they would leave you. It is easier than opening yourself up and taking a chance you could be wrong."

"And how did you get to be so wise?" Emma asked, finishing the last sip of her drink.

"I'm a queen," Elsa said as if it was nothing. "I have to know things. It makes it easier for my people to love me."

Emma again laughed. "Well, if you know things, want to tell me how to do this?" She frowned. "I really have no idea. I mean I get the mechanics of it, but…"

"Just love her," Elsa said, caressing the baby's cheek with the back of her hand. "The rest should happen naturally. You shouldn't have too hard of a time since she's a mirror image of that one over there." Elsa used her elbow to point to the sleeping Killian. "Don't tell him this, but you have to admit the man's features make a beautiful baby girl."

The laugh that Emma choked back was contagious and Elsa's eyes glowed at the joke. "I wish you didn't have to go back home," Emma said between gasps. "I miss you when you're away."

"I miss you too," Elsa acknowledged. "You've been like a second sister to me."

"I feel like you're my sister too," Emma said, smiling. "In a totally non-Ingrid and yellow ribbon kind of way." She fingered the edge of the blanket. "I know you have a kingdom to run and your family there, but sometimes I wish you lived here instead."

"We both have lives and responsibilities," she said, looking down at the baby. "And as much as we would like it to be otherwise, our homes are far apart. But we can visit and we can talk over the mirror. And somehow it is enough. And speaking of enough, I should let you get some sleep, Mommy."

Emma reluctantly drifted off to sleep, leaving Elsa to watch over them.

The next day, as the doctor had said was likely, Emma and Eva were both released to go home, as was Henry with the strict orders of rest. The task of driving his family home was one that Killian took very seriously and Emma tried not to laugh or tease when he checked the car seat at least 11 times after the hospital staff and David had all declared it safe and secure. He helped each of them in the vehicle, threatening to carry them all one by one if necessary.

When the baby let out a soft whimper just a mile from their home, Emma was sure that he was about to pull over to investigate.

"She's fine," Emma insisted from where she sat in the backseat. "It was just the sun in her eyes for a second." Emma's hand was now shielding the baby's face and the little one had quieted immediately.

"Are you sure that's all?" Killian asked, tension evident in his voice as he drove at an even slower pace. "Could it be…"

"She's fine," Emma promised again.

Killian's only response was an unintelligible grunt as he turned onto the street where they lived. Henry snickered and then groaned himself with the pain of the movement.

Once inside, Henry was tucked into bed and Killian was fussing with the bassinet that sat in their bedroom. His daughter slept peacefully in the small, soft confines as he leaned over to listen to her breathing and watch her unremarkable slumber. Emma had gingerly sat on the bed, pushing off his earlier attempts to help her. "So far so good," she said. "We've managed her first feeding at home and a diaper change. We're all still somewhat unscathed."

If he heard her, he didn't respond. His arm rested on the side of the bassinette and his chin in the crook of his elbow. He was enthralled again, memorizing her every feature and characteristic.

"Killian," she said, her voice sympathetic and bothered at the same time. "She's fine. Let her sleep."

He pulled himself back, a sheepish expression on his face. "I'm hovering?"

She nodded, smiling and holding out her hand to him. "A little, but it's adorable," she told him as he approached. "I wouldn't change it for anything. You're…" She stopped, her eyes welling up with tears. "Damn it."

He sat next to her, watching as she wiped at her eyes. "I thought you said that the talk of unfettered emotions after a woman gives birth was utter hogwash," he said mockingly. "I believe you told the doctor that you were not going to give in to such urges."

She glared at him through the tears. "I'm fine," she bit out. "But you better watch it. I've read about women who try to kill their husbands after they have given birth. I thought that was crazy when I read it, but it is starting to make sense." She let a giggle escape through the tears as he jumped back as though scared of her idle threat.

"I'll take my chances," he said, kissing her cheek softly and staying there with his forehead against her temple. "I suppose the visitors will start soon. Everyone will want to see her."

"I suppose so," she said softly. "Elsa said she'd fend them off for as long as she could. But unless she puts an ice wall around this place, I'm not sure that will keep my mother out."

True to his prediction, Granny, Leroy and Ruby arrived a few minutes later. While each commented on how rested and relaxed Emma looked, they were obviously there to see the baby. Killian showed her off with pride, telling each of them that he was enamored with tiny newborn and describing all six pounds eight ounces of perfection that was his daughter.

Regina's visit was next and though she claimed to be there to see her son, she was soon holding the tiny girl. "I hope that fatherhood does not make you soft," she told Killian. "A pirate without a backbone is not very fearsome." She smirked and lifted the baby against her chest. "Though she might be cute enough to make such a transition worth it."

"I'm afraid my reputation as a pirate was compromised years ago," he answered. "Much as yours as the evil queen."

"Touché," she responded, looking toward Emma. "She's beautiful and will grow into a lovely woman, but I have a feeling she's going to be a daddy's girl, through and through."

"Of course," Emma said. "Maybe the next one will be more inclined toward me." She laughed as Killian's eyes shot open and his mouth dropped. "Oh, please don't go there. I am not promising anything or offering. I'm just making a comment." She smiled back at Regina. "He only hears what he wants."

If Emma thought the hospital room was crowded when she was in labor, the first day home was even more so. People dropped by at odd hours, leaving her to feel the need to entertain them though Killian and her parents assured her that she was within the rights of a new mother to rest and ignore the intrusions. Eva handled it like a pro, being held and cuddled by half the town. The infant tolerated her grandfather's watchful eyes, her father's insistence that he get to hold her regularly, her grandmother's constant picture taking, and Emma's pleas for normalcy. And to everyone's happy surprise, the young girl even allowed her Uncle Neal a moment to hold her with the help of her mother and the camera's rapt attention.

Elsa hung back from the family, doing odd chores and organizing the covered dishes that people brought with them as gifts to the new parents. She kept Henry on his medication schedule and checked on him regularly at Emma's request. On one such visit, she found him reading a comic book and eating the sandwich she had left for him earlier.

"The bread is probably stale by now," she said, pushing the door open. "Let me get you another?"

He shook his head no, looking up from the colorful pages to return her gaze. "Sounds like some more of the dwarfs are here," he commented, nodding his head to the door. "We should charge admission."

"It wouldn't deter them," Elsa told him, leaning against his desk. "Your sister is getting a lot of attention."

Henry nodded again, taking a bit of the sandwich and swallowing hard. "You are doing a lot to help them," he commented. "You've been taking care of me. I even saw you sweeping earlier. That's not exactly queen behavior."

Elsa looked out into the hallway at the array of pictures that Emma and Killian had framed and hung. Some were candid shots of them, her parents, Emma with her younger brother, and even Elsa on a visit. Most were of Henry, including some that Regina had shared of him from his younger years. There was the wedding portrait that Emma had protested having to have taken but now loved. A reproduction of her parents' official royal portraits also hung from the walls. "Your mother and I are very good friends," Elsa said. "And you know that it is important to do things to help your friends. Plus little Eva is my goddaughter, just as she is yours. That means we have to do everything we can to make her life all the more wonderful. If that means I sweep the floor so your parents get a moment more with her, then I'm happy to sweep the floors."

Henry sighed. "So that means I should be doing more," he said. "I could make dinner. I know how to do grilled cheese." He was pushing back the covers when he let out a grimace from the sharp pain of his movements.

"I've got it," Elsa said. "People have brought you all enough food for weeks. And your grandmother is in there right now making something called chicken pot pie that she has me freezing for you all to eat later." She came over and pulled back up the cover. "You get better and when it is time for me to go home, you can take over. I know your mom would love one of your grilled cheese dinners."


	11. Chapter 11

In the weeks since Eva had been born, Emma and Killian finally slipped into a standard routine with their time and energy. She was finding that the dark circles under her eyes had faded and the grumpy outbursts of "Now What?" were becoming less common. She'd even found herself taking walks with Eva toward town and visiting her father at the station for an hour or two each day.

"I'm thinking about going back to work," Emma told Elsa one evening during their mirror chat time. "I think I'm ready for it."

"You were mentally ready 15 minutes after she was born," Elsa said with a laugh. "Face it, Emma. You're married to your job."

Emma feigned an expression of being offended. "Give me credit," she said. "I was good for the first hour."

The truth was that Emma did enjoy motherhood. She marveled at her daughter's ever movement. Each smile was a reason to celebrate and each cry its own investigation. She had seen Killian go from frustrated and angry after a hard day at work to marveling in awe that his daughter was now sucking on her fingers or blowing bubbles. Each day marked a new adventure or discovery. But each day also meant a closeness with her daughter that she had never considered. She knew her daughter's cries by heart now, recognizing her needs and fulfilling each one. She saw the change in her daughter as she or Killian picked her up, the tense muscles relaxing and contented look before she fell asleep in their arms.

The time off from work had also brought Emma closer to Henry. He met her after school each day, even if it was a night he normally spent with Regina. She knew about his assignments, his friends, and even the crush on the girl in his English class. He was helpful and kind, but beyond that he was excited to sit with her and learn more about her life and what she knew of his dad's life.

She had also fallen into twice weekly visits to the park with her mother and Neal. The toddler would run and play on the equipment, his mother trailing after him when she wasn't sitting on a bench with Emma.

"He's getting more and more active," Mary Margaret mused, watching the boy attempt to catch one of the birds that landed in the clearing. He had not yet figured out that stealth would be required and yelled to each of them that he was going to catch them. Then he was surprised when they flew away. "Before you know it, she'll be the same age."

"She's already growing up too fast," Emma said. "I already had to pack away the newborn clothes and move her up to the next size."

Mary Margaret nodded, offering a thank you for allowing her to watch her granddaughter the other night when Emma and Killian tried their first date night out since the birth. It hadn't lasted long, but Mary Margaret's eyes were glowing at the chance to care for the little girl.

"I appreciated it," Emma said earnestly. "I was hoping we might talk about us kind of switching off and helping each other out."

"So you're definitely going back to work?" her mother asked.

The main part of her fear of going back to work was the idea of losing that closeness with Henry and Eva. She wanted it all, which was not humanly possible to achieve.

"You still remember how to do that?" David asked when Emma offered to switch the phones over from the service to live during a station visit. "Or should I give you a tutorial?"

"I think I've got it," Emma said as she wheeled her daughter's stroller up to the desk. "Nothing to it." She pressed a few buttons and heard the stuttered dial tone in her ear. "Done."

David smiled appreciatively and dropped a few files on his desk. "Your mother was thinking about a little get together Friday night. Just a few folks at the loft for dinner. Interested?"

Emma was reaching into the stroller and readjusting the blanket swaddling Eva. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders and tented her vision for a moment. "Sure," Emma said. "That sounds nice. I think this is our weekend with Henry too."

Biting into his granola bar, David chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "So you going to keep coming by every day or should we talk about when you're coming back to work?" He paused as she shifted uncomfortably. "If you don't want to talk about it, we can avoid the topic for now."

"I am ready," she told him. "Let's talk about it Friday."

She and the baby headed home to meet Killian who had started stopping by for lunch each day with his girls. As set as the schedule was, she still cracked a smile when he peeked his head through the doorway and appeared surprised to see them both there waiting for him, Emma having prepared a few sandwiches and salads and Eva fresh from her morning nap. Sometimes she would take Eva down to the docks to visit him, watching as he carried her around some of the bigger ships and told her the names of each element and tips for sailing.

"She's too young to understand all that," Emma laughed one day when he was explaining the difference between a monsoon and a typhoon to the wiggling infant.

"It's in her blood," he protested. "She's got a long line of seafaring people in her family. I must keep up that tradition."

She didn't protest too much, but instead watched and listened to their conversations with pride. Her mother spoke to the baby with baby talk, raising the pitch of her voice and making little faces at her granddaughter. David spoke to the baby as though he was asking questions of a third person, "Does the baby want her nap now?" Even Henry changed his speech in the presence of his sister and called her Eva or Evie when he spoke to her.

Killian did none of that. He spoke to his daughter as though she were a friend or equal. Emma could swear that in some conversations he had with her that he actually expected her to respond. It was an endearing trait and one she was sure to hear over the years as Eva grew from infant to child. That was just the case today as he changed the topic from weather patterns to the right amount of pressure for the jib.

"I told my father that I think I'm ready to go back to work," she said one day when she brought lunch to him. He had Eva on his lap and was lazily dipping a chip into some salsa that she had found at a farmer's market. "Maybe next week?"

Killian had expected this from her, as she had never made any pretense about wanting to stay at home. It was just one of those modern things he had become accustomed to in this realm. "I would think you'd be anxious to go back," he said carefully. "Are you concerned?"

"Mom and I were talking. We thought that maybe we could switch off for a while. I could watch Neal with Eva in the mornings. She could watch them in the afternoons. So it would just be part-time for a while."

"Whatever makes you happy," he said, smiling down at his daughter. "I could arrange my schedule differently here."

Henry's afternoon visits were always fun too. While he came over to talk with his mother, he spent a fair amount of time reading or telling stories to his sister. On more than a few occasions, Emma used this time to take her own nap or catch up on a few household chores. But one time she had walked in on Henry telling a very happy Eva a story about a pirate and a swan. Standing in the kitchen, Emma listened to her son's version of their love story and restrained a laugh at the innocent telling of the tale. He was part way through the story when she saw that he was leaned over a piece of paper and her daughter was in her carrier. Watching for a moment, she realized that Henry was drawing pictures as he spoke.

"You've got quite a talent there, kid," she said when she saw the finished product. "How long have you been drawing like this?"

"I just like to doodle," Henry said humbly. "It's just something to do."

Picking up the paper, she smiled at the familiar face of herself and Killian. She could almost remember the conversation and the feel of his hand on hers from the moment depicted. "It's more than just a doodle," she told him. "It's very good."

Henry changed the subject to the girl in his class that he liked. Emma tried to decode the teenage female mind for him, but failed because as Henry said, she was not a typical teenage girl even when she was that age. So she stuck by the standard advice of being yourself and being honest. Throwing in a few comments about their being plenty of fish in the sea.

"I'm thinking of going back to work soon," she said after Henry helped her take out the garbage. "Maybe part-time for a few weeks and then…"

Henry nodded thoughtfully. She had come to realize that he liked this side of their relationship, her coming to him with her thoughts or problems. He liked being a man in her life to fix things. "I guess you're getting kind of bored with just Evie to talk to all day," he said, pinching his sister's foot as he spoke. "You probably miss talking to people other than family."

"Your sister keeps me plenty busy," Emma said. I thought I'd be more anxious about going back to work, but I'm not. I want to go back, but I don't want to leave her either. I'm just a little torn."

Again Henry seemed to understand. "You know that Evie and I are fine with it," he said, speaking for his little sister as though she had voiced an opinion. "You aren't neglecting us or anything."

So with the approval of everyone, including giving herself permission, Emma laid out her clothes Sunday night for her Monday morning return to work. She was up at 5:30 to shower. Breakfast was on the stove at 6:00. And then she heard Killian's voice at 6:08.

"Love, will you come in here for a moment?" he asked. Eva had just recently moved from their room to the nursery. Her form always looked so tiny in the crib.

"What's the matter?" she asked, walking in to see her husband cradling their whimpering daughter in his arms. The little girl's face was flushed and her tiny hand tugged and swatted at her ear. Her breathing was noisy and she appeared agitated.

"I believe she may be ill," he said, looking pale as she rocked the little girl back and forth. "Can you check?"

Emma's hand cupped the baby's forehead, feeling the warmth radiate back to her. "She's got a fever," Emma said, leaning down to kiss her daughter's cheek. "And with the way she's fussing with her ear, I'd be willing to bet it is an ear infection. But the breathing worries me most."

Emma pulled out her cell and left a message with the pediatrician and called her parents next to postpone her work return.

"You were so looking forward to that," Killian said, worrying with his bottom lip between his teeth. "I can stay here and care for her. It's not a problem." He hiked the baby up higher against his chest.

"I know you could," she said, her head coming to rest on his shoulder and her arm around his waist so that she might look down on their daughter too. "I don't want to leave her though. Work can wait another day or two."

When the doctor called back an hour later, Killian had already called into work too and they both took the infant to her first sick appointment. Emma's hands were full of medicine samples and lists of products like humidifiers and nose bulbs that might help the situation. Killian was clinging to his daughter protectively and glaring at a nurse who had been the one to draw blood.

"It will help them diagnose her," Emma said as the nurse left the room without turning her back on the pirate. He'd already threatened her.

"It's barbaric," he had hissed back.

When the doctor said it was just a mild case of the croup, they packed up to head back home with a stop for medicine first. Killian went inside the pharmacy, but Emma knew that was a mistake the moment she saw him leave with not just a small bag of medicine, but several canvas totes. He had purchased all the necessary items, a teddy bear, a soft book toy, a book on child psychology, one of Emma's favorite candy bars, a new thumb drive for Henry who had said he needed one, and a can of chicken noodle soup that was beyond Eva's digestion now. She wasn't even sure what else there was in the bags. He'd been so proud of each purchase that she didn't chastise him.

So their routine was disrupted as in addition to feedings and diaper changes, they gave their daughter her medicine and tried to soothe her when the pain was at its worst. Emma was holding her daughter in her arms just after midnight, the wails from the child practically deafening the tired mother. She was glad that Henry was at Regina's house, as at least he was getting some sleep.

"Bloody hell," Killian said, coming into the room still yawning. His pajama pants were low on his hips and his hair was wildly messy from the little bit of sleep he'd managed. "Isn't there anything that will help?"

Emma fought back the urge to tell him where he could stick that question, as if there was something she would surely be trying it right now and not letting her daughter suffer. "I wish," she said meekly, settling for those two words instead of a bitingly sarcastic remark. "Do you think we should try the shower thing the doctor suggested?"

"Couldn't hurt," Killian answered. "Though it sounds a bit odd."

Emma did not want to explain it to him again and carried the wailing infant to the larger of the two bathrooms with Killian at her heels. "You can go back to bed," she said, turning the hot water on full blast with one hand. "Maybe one of us could get some sleep." She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and lifted Eva to her shoulder. Rubbing small circles on her back, Emma decided that the baby was quieting some or she was growing used to the sound.

"I'm in this for the long haul," Killian said, sliding with his back against the door until he was seated across from his girls. "Besides, you think I could sleep over that noise?"

Eventually the steam filled the room and the baby's yowls became whimpers and then quieted all together. Emma had taken to pacing, which seemed to soothe Eva even more with the motion. Killian even tried singing softly to them, never even running low on songs. With a yawn, Emma looked down at her husband and smiled. "I think she's asleep," she whispered.

Killian looked up and smiled back. "Who knew there was such magic in this room?"

Kneeling down next to him, she leaned against him and closed her eyes as the steam circled round them. "Good night, Killian," she said, nuzzling her nose and mouth against the stubble of his cheek.

_**A/N: I'm feeling a little cruel to children in this fic. I have given Henry appendicitis and made Eva sick. I don't even like sick kids. LOL.** _


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: One more chapter after this one and then the epilogue. I'm a little sad to see this one ending, as it has been a fun way to make my friend and others smile. I don't usually get a chance to strictly write fluffy and fun Killian/Emma. **_

There was something about a new baby in a household that made time go even faster. Each morning felt like a new discovery as Eva went from docile newborn to curious infant. Emma had come to recognize Killian's excited tone each day when he saw something new about their daughter. He had carried her into the bathroom and practically pulled Emma out of the shower to show her the baby's first tooth. He had cheered the little one on until he almost lost his voice when she started crawling. New foods were a victory that resulted in calls and texts to David and Mary Margaret. And when she discovered her own feet while Emma was at work, promptly putting them in her mouth, Killian had driven the baby to the station to show her the development.

The holidays of the year came and went with plenty of pictures of Eva with Santa Claus and sitting in the middle of more presents than seemed possible. While Granny and Ruby hosted the annual New Year's Eve party, Emma had fallen asleep getting ready for the event and spent the evening curled up with her husband and daughter to snore in the new year. Killian may never have celebrated Easter before, but just a lessons from Henry and he took his daughter and David took Neal on an egg hunt that could have lasted for hours if Emma had not insisted that they come inside and enjoy the dinner she and Mary Margaret had managed to prepare.

"She's gotten so big," Elsa said with a smile, waving a regal hand at the baby through the mirror. "Oh my. I can't believe it. She'll be walking before long."

Emma bounced the baby on her lap, smoothing the soft downy hair that covered her head. "She's growing up too fast," she confirmed. "I don't want to think about her walking. It's going to send Killian over the edge."

For months these weekly chats between the two friends had continued. Sometimes joined by Anna and her son, Elsa always made time to chat with Emma and see her goddaughter. The growing infant was even beginning to recognize the other woman's voice and sometimes squealed with delight at the soft tones calling her name.

"How are plans for the party coming?" Elsa asked, turning her focus back to Emma. "I don't know how you are going to manage everything and a party."

Emma gently tried to move Eva's hand from pulling her hair, redirecting her hand to the small stuffed elephant that Killian had picked up on his way home from work. She'd told him he needed to stop, as each day he brought some sort of little item for his daughter. She was quickly running out of room for them all. He had not found the willpower yet, as the look of his daughter's excited face for anything soft and cuddly was enough to make him smile for hours. "I'll pull it off," she said. "It isn't going to be as big as this girl's first birthday, but I'm trying to make it special."

"I've been making the final arrangements on that special item you asked me to procure," Elsa said, winking. She could never tell if Killian or Henry were within earshot. "It should be ready in time if my advisors got the correct information."

"I certainly owe you one," Emma said. "You're a lifesaver."

A few weeks earlier a catalog had appeared in the mail with different party supplies and suggestions for a baby's first birthday. Emma had tossed it aside since there were still months before young Eva would turn one. After struggling through a bath and bedtime with her daughter, Emma was ready to collapse on the couch with a book that she had been reading. Book in hand and flannel pajamas in place, Emma was tucking her blanket in around her legs and resting her head on Killian's lap when she noticed his choice of reading material.

"Why are you reading that?" she asked, cocking her head to view the cover image of a tiny tot in a pink onesie and tutu. "We don't need to plan something this far ahead."

He grinned down at her, turning the page with his thumb. "I'm just trying to understand, darling," he said. "Do people really do so much for a child's birthday?"

Emma laughed. "I think we're more the cake and punch type people," she said. "Maybe a balloon or two and some chips. I've never really planned a big birthday party before. I don't think I ever had one either. Wait…I had that one when I was 21, but it was mostly friends drinking too much and me trying out my new legal identification." She watched as his eyes scanned the page. "When is your birthday? I don't think you've ever told me. We've never celebrated it."

He smiled. "I haven't celebrated the date of my birth since I was a small child. I'm afraid I don't quite remember it."

"Old man," she snickered. "What do you remember about it? What time of the year for instance?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "It was the spring of the year," he said. "I know that it was right after the planting time of for some of the villagers with farms."

"So around this time of year?" she half asked and have told herself. "I was a fall baby." Propping herself up on her elbow, she grabbed the catalog away from him and flipped through the pages quickly. "What if we planned a birthday party for you?"

"Emma," he said. "I'm not a child."

"Don't I know it," she laughed. "I'm not planning to put you in a tutu and buy you a smash cake. I'm just talking about some friends, drinks, and a little food. We've been talking about having more people over. We've got to stop being recluses and do more with everyone."

He chuckled as she was up off the couch and pulling a notepad out from under the end table. "Emma, you're acting like your mother. I don't need a party."

"Everyone needs a birthday party at least once," she announced, poising the pen over the paper. "Let's start with an invitation list. My parents, Regina, Ruby, Tinkerbelle, the dwarfs, Granny, Robin's back in town, Belle…" She paused. "Smee? Will? Little John?"

"Love," Killian said as she pulled out her phone to scan through the contact list. "We don't need to…"

"I want to do this," she declared. "I want to celebrate your birthday."

"I suppose we could invite Dr. Whale," Killian said, his voice reluctant.

"Good idea," Emma said, writing down the name. "We have to keep him away from my dad, but otherwise we're good."

Emma had spent the rest of the night and part of the next day with her lists. She'd been shopping and organizing for two weeks at least and sent out invitations personally.

Elsa had sent her regrets, explaining that the new military academy class was graduating that same day and she was required to welcome each of the new officers during the official ceremony. She would send a gift, she had promised, and something for the baby too.

Everyone else was on board and ready for a celebration that included nothing to do with defeating a villain or surviving a curse. Killian had continued to shake his head at his wife's enthusiasm for this new project of hers, but he stood back and let her plan the event without too many questions as to her ideas. Each day the party seemed to grow. The guest list remained solid, but the menu changed several times and now included not only the cake but Regina's lasagna, a salad from Ruby, hamburgers courtesy of David and Mary Margaret, Granny's special pasta salad, and desserts from just about everyone. Robin and Will had declared themselves the bartenders for the night and from reports had already bought out much of the town's selections.

Henry, who had joined up with his mother's enthusiasm, was on balloon duty. Emma had told him that Killian probably wasn't much into such decorations, but Henry insisted that every birthday party needed balloons. Borrowing a helium tank from some place that Emma didn't care to know about, Henry spent the afternoon of the party inflating the balloons and laughing at his sister's giggles and squeals of delight when he sent one floating past her.

"I think those are enough," Emma said, as she entered the room balancing two containers of food that Granny had sent on ahead. "If we have many more of them, we can't fit all the guests in here."

Henry looked at the ceiling that was now covered in multi-colored balloons. "I wanted it to look like a party," he said, tying off the last one. "I think he'll like it."

"I'm sure he will if he doesn't pop them all with his hook," Emma said, dropping the items on the counter and turning to hug her son and pick up her daughter. "Thanks for this and watching Evie for me. It was easier to do my shopping without an extra set of hands grabbing things."

"No problem," Henry said. "I think this will be kind of fun. I've never been to a birthday party for a pirate before." He capped off the helium tank and wheeled it toward the door carefully. "Good job not going with the skull and crossbones theme." He practically howled at his own joke.

"I considered it," Emma said, kissing the baby's hand as she readjusted her weight. "But since this is the first time he's let us do something like this for him, I thought we should take the high road this time."

Henry laughed again. "Got it. Maybe next year. Oh and Mr. Smee called. He said the package arrived about an hour ago and that he'd make sure Killian didn't go in that direction. Whatever that means." He used his foot to pull back on the tank and use its rear wheels. "I'm going to go put this in the car."

"Thanks again, kid," she called to him. "If you want, we can do the pirate theme for your birthday party."

Henry made gagging noises and howled with laughter again.

Settling Eva back on her activity mat, Emma jumped into her last minute work. She refrigerated the bowls of salads and coleslaw, froze the ice cream, chopped a few veggies for the tray and mixed up her favorite spinach dip. Henry helped clean up a bit of the clutter that always seemed to find its way into their lives and tried to keep his sister from fussing too much when she didn't get attention.

"I think that's everything," Emma said, surveying the room carefully. "I'm going to go change."

Henry was laughing at his sister's constant slapping of her hand against the cartoon face of a farmer on the mat. "She's got a violent streak," he told his mother.

Emma just giggled at her son's observation, stealing away to shower and dress before anyone else arrived. Her parents got there first, David insisting on starting the new grill that they had received as a wedding present but never used. Mary Margaret had obviously been in one of her baking moods and Emma was afraid to count the number of cookie plates that were placed on every flat surface. Ruby and Granny brought the rest of the food, followed by Will, Robin, and most of the Merry Men who turned the kitchen island into a bar where they encouraged everyone to have one of their special drinks. Belle was their favorite patron of the night and her laugh went from soft titter to girlish giggle and finally to a loud chortle after her third cocktail. Regina seemed endlessly amused by the scene, but that might have been the copious amounts of tequila and rum laced drinks she had been sipping. Ruby had no use for fruity drinks and showed the men the best way to do shots.

Killian blushed at the attention of a party just for him, but with an arm around Emma's waist he greeted his guests and thanked them for their birthday wishes. Even Smee enjoyed himself, learning to use a digital camera with Mary Margaret and showing off his dance moves with Henry on some video game that Emma had bought. Aurora and Philip did try the game too, which for some reason made Henry and Roland roll with laughter. Dr. Whale did manage to keep his distance from David, but his flirting was in full force with both Tinkerbelle and Ruby willing to listen to his tales of heroism that always rang a bit untrue.

Though Killian had said he needed no presents, there were a pile of them. Regina handed hers to him and shrugged. "I don't know what else to get a pirate other than a bottle of rum," she said when he opened it. "So enjoy!" Others were more and less creative. There was a telescope from Emma's parents, a coloring book that Neal picked out because he thought everyone needed one, books from several of the guests, a pirate themed video game from Henry, a new charm for his necklace, and the list went on.

"Having a good time?" Emma asked when she rescued one of the Merry Men from having to hold a fussing Eva.

"Aye," he said, his nose pushing back her hair so that he could kiss her cheek. "I have enjoyed myself this evening."

"Good," she said. "Everyone should have a time when it is all about them." She glanced around the room. "But tomorrow is going to be all about us cleaning up this mess."

He chuckled. "I thought you could just do that with magic. Wiggle your fingers or something."

"We'll have to try that," she said.

When Granny managed to light the candles on the birthday cake with Regina's help – a tradition that Emma had insisted was necessary for the party – everyone threw in a joke that at least there weren't hundreds of the small candles to light. Killian shook his head and complained that this was a silly tradition, but at Emma's pleading closed his eyes and made a wish.

"I can't believe people clap for a man blowing out some bloody candles," he said into Emma's ear as the cake was sliced for everyone. "I have done much more impressive things."

"We're celebrating you," Emma told him, playfully pushing at his shoulder. "And your lung capacity is remarkable for a man your age."

Henry stood on the other side of Killian, his laughter bright as everyone clamored for a piece of the silky cake. "What did you wish for anyway?" he asked. "Come on. Tell us."

"You know that's bad luck," Emma said, adjusting the weight of the baby so she could move her other arm around her husband's waist.

"I'm kind of hoping he wished for some more cake," Henry said, mockingly complaining as Ruby and Granny struggled to keep up with the demand. Killian had had the first slice, which was customary, but Henry was hoping for more. He was a growing boy.

"Bad luck?" Killian asked, looking at his wife's upturned face.

"Yes," Emma explained. "If you tell your wish, it won't come true. We don't want that to happen."

Their small exchange was interrupted by Mary Margaret wanting to take a photo. Killian managed to smile for his mother-in-law, holding his arms around both his wife and stepson as Emma held the baby in the frame of the picture. "Your mother is obsessed," he laughed lowly as Mary Margaret hopped over to another group for a photograph. "You found it necessary to buy her that camera?"

"Good thing you're photogenic then," Emma said. "Now hurry up and get your cake. I have another present for you."

_**Please review to keep the muses happy and the creative juices flowing. I'm sure you know what Emma's present to Killian is, but I couldn't resist it – clichéd as it may be now. **_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: I have completely enjoyed writing this fic, as it has been fun to explore these characters without all the trappings of life and death situations. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as my friend has over past few days. There will be an epilogue to follow, as I don't want to leave it at 13 chapters – unlucky. **_

She had waited until the last of the guests left, the apartment littered with cups and glasses, plates and other remnants of the good time that had been had by all. Henry had left with Regina, half carrying a tired Roland and fending off a request by Neal to spend the night. Her parents took their cranky toddler home after driving Belle back instead of making the clearly inebriated woman walk the streets of Storybrooke alone.

Eva was fighting to keep her eyes open and like most babies, the struggle frustrated her. Her tiny head fell against Killian's shoulder as he held her close to him. Emma tried to pick up a few of the items that plagued the table, stacking and sorting them as she hummed a tune that had been repeating on Henry's game. She caught him looking at her, his eyes drowsy but still alert to her movements. She closed her eyes, concentrating with her teeth denting into her lower lip. His laugh alerted her that she had been successful. The room was now spotless.

"I owe you a present," she said, wiping her hands on a towel she had brought over for her cleaning efforts. "You want it now?"

He looked down at the baby tucked into his arm. "It can wait," he told her. "I should get this little one ready for bed."

Emma glanced around their settings again, frowning. "I hate using my magic for something so trivial, but I also hate to leave this place like a tornado came through," she told him. "I'm going to get our coats. Wait here." With a little bit of a struggle, she put the pink and white coat on her daughter, pulling up the tiny hood over her dark curls. The white of the hood made her blue eyes shine even brighter.

They walked out of the apartment and toward the docks slowly. Killian carried Eva and Emma fidgeted with her hands in her pockets. "This couldn't wait until morning?" he asked. "She's ready to collapse and so are you."

Emma shook her head and continued on the path past the cannery and the boats that had been dry docked all winter. He had to know what she had done, the walk itself too much of a clue for him. When she turned that final corner, she stopped short as he did. "Elsa helped me with a little information that she gathered from Anna and Kristoff," she explained. "They were on the Jolly Roger briefly and remembered her. She's changed hands a few times, but when Elsa's navy was patrolling some small fishing village earlier this year there were a lot of rumors about an enchanted ship. She put two and two together…"

Killian was quiet, his arm tightening around Eva though the baby made no motions to escape. His eyes were clearly studying the ship, trying to count the differences in his mind.

"Are you happy?" she asked. "I know you said that you don't regret giving her up, but I have never felt like you should have had to make that choice. It should not be either me or the Jolly Roger. You should be able to have both."

"She's almost exactly as I last saw her," he said a bit hoarsely, his eyes still not leaving the sight of the planks and boards that had been his home for such a long time. "It's…"

Emma relaxed a little when he finally spoke, a small sigh of relief escaping. "Mr. Smee helped too," she explained. "With all of those people having claimed her, there were some changes made. Using his memories, he and Marco worked on her for about a week to change her back to how you would remember. I hope…I hope I did the right thing." She stepped to the side of him, as if to offer him permission to explore. "Go ahead. I know you're at least curious."

It did not take more of an invitation. He was up the gang plank and retracing the steps he had made over centuries before she could even exhale. Following him, she let herself breath in the familiar scent of the ocean and the well weathered wood of the Jolly Roger. If it was able to bring her memories, she could only imagine what it did for him.

His expression was one of awe as he stared endlessly at spots she probably would have overlooked. Scarred wood seemed to capture his attention, as did the perfectly tight moorings. Eva nestled into the crook of his neck, allowing him an unencumbered chance to become reacquainted. When Emma remembered the ship that had taken her to Neverland and back, she always pictured Killian in his full leather jacket, a menacing and terrifyingly intriguing man. To see that same man in modern dress holding a baby in his arms was a bit disconcerting, but she knew that deep inside he was both men and had reconciled that distinction long ago.

"If anything is different or missing," she said, interrupting the silence. "I will make sure we get that taken care of immediately. Smee wasn't totally sure on a few details, but we did the best we could without photographs or anything to help us."

He closed his eyes and she could see the hairs on his head blowing lightly in the wind that always seemed to accompany the water. Slowly he pivoted toward her, an expression of curious sadness on his face. "Why?" he asked, a bit more emotion tinging his voice than his face seemed to show.

"Why?" she repeated. "I thought she belonged back with you. Did you not want her back?" She was confused by his reaction. She'd expected joy and happiness. She'd expected him to be as excited as a young boy, opening every door and looking in every corner. She'd even expected judgment about some of the decisions she'd made over the color of paint or the sheets that Smee did not think looked right on the bed. She did not expect what appeared to be disappointment.

"I gave her up," he said, swallowing hard. "I traded her for a chance…" He shook his head and protectively held his daughter closer to him. "I was a different man when I sailed this ship." His eyes closed again as if he was trying to find the right words. "I said my goodbyes and now…"

"You shouldn't have had to make that decision," Emma said, hoping she was right to have asked Elsa for this. "I wanted you to know that you have both. Isn't this…This was your home for so long. This made you the man you are, good and bad. She is a part of you, just like your brother, Milah, your crew, and everyone else who you've loved or respected in your life. So when I tried to think of a way to celebrate your birthday, I thought about this. I thought about how everyone needs to know that there is someone grateful that they were born. And no gift seemed quite as special as giving you part of that back and saying that I love all of you."

His hand that had been cradling Eva's back as she sat across his other arm, reached out to touch the wood of the ship's wheel. "It wasn't so much of a choice," he said to her, his voice soft against the water lapping below. "I never considered options or ways around giving her up. I knew that you were out there and that was enough."

"I'm grateful for that decision," she said, standing closer to him as he looked up to the mast above them. "And I'm grateful that we make those kinds of decisions together now."

He looked to her, his eyes softer and narrower as he watched her place her hands out to his shoulder and Eva's back. "Thank you," he said simply.

"You're welcome," Emma smiled. "Now, you need to see what I did below deck. It's not quite what you remember."

Laughing he followed her, extending his hand to help her down and then handing her the baby so he could join them. His desk still sat there with maps new and old. She showed him the maps from this realm that she had bought, telling him that she was looking forward to maybe a long summer vacation at sea with just their little family. She'd admitted that she modernized the galley a bit, saying she wasn't sailing anywhere again without some of her favorite comforts, including poptarts. The crew's quarters had been updated too with fewer bunks. However, the ones that were there were outfitted with thicker mattresses and modern touches like reading lights.

"That was the hold for prisoners and rowdy crew," he said when she stopped in front of a wooden door. "I stored excesses in there on occasion."

She laughed. "I wouldn't suggest telling this little one that when she's older," Emma teased, opening the door to him. Small though it was, Emma had found items to make a nursery for Eva. A crib was built into the wall that Emma said would be able to be converted to a bed at a later date. Even what had been shelving was now a dresser with shelves above for her toys. His first mate's quarters were next, which she had asked Marco to help convert over for Henry's use. She even joked that Henry would probably be disappointed by the lack of a gaming system until he realized he was at sea.

Killian said very little on their tour, only reassuring her that her choices and decisions had been the right ones. "You thought of everything," he told her, pulling her toward him. "You are amazing."

"I like doing things for you," she said. "Now…want to know part two of your present?"

"There is a part two?" he asked, looking around the captain's quarters that still remained relatively the same. She had bought a better mattress and some of her clothing now hung next to his. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"There is a little tradition in this realm," she said, lifting her sleeping daughter from his arms and carrying her back to the crib. "It's called spring break."

He followed behind. "Aye," he answered. "Henry has spoken of that, but it is for school children, is it not?"

Emma grinned. "Yes, but it is really for families. I spoke to my father and arranged for your duties at the dock to be covered. If you're interested, we have about seven days off. Henry will be here in the morning and we can set sail for any place you want." She smiled proudly. "I'm trying to be spontaneous here."

He chuckled, pulling her out of the baby's room and back into his arms. "You're succeeding," he said. "You have truly surprised me, love."

"Good," she said, crinkling her nose playfully. "I was hoping that all the mystery wasn't out of our relationship just because we're married." She looped her arms around his neck and kissed his waiting mouth. "And I think that many years ago a pirate promised me a nightcap on this very ship. Do you think I might be able to collect on that now?"

Mischievousness danced in his eyes as he lifted her up into his arms, carrying her back toward the bed. "He must have been an idiot to make you wait so long for that nightcap," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe someone didn't punch him for being such a scoundrel."

About two months later Elsa held her goddaughter and stared down into what she often referred to as her perfect cherub face. Tiny, plump fingers pulled at her braid and the matching feet kicked in rhythm to the song that she sang to the little girl. Smelling of flower scented soap, Eva's pink nightgown rustled as her godmother rocked her in the chair that sat next to the now one-year-old's crib.

"You're going to fight me on this aren't you?" Elsa said, stopping her song to regard the little's girl's wide blue eyes. "I'll have you know that I always get my way." She laughed and placed a kiss atop the child's head. "But you are a worthy opponent, even when you won't go to bed on time."

The little girl giggled her response and bounced excitedly on Elsa's lap. "You're like this now, but what about your party tomorrow? You can't fall asleep during it."

"She'll be fine," Henry said from the doorway, his hands reaching out for his sister. "You just have to be firm." Lifting her up so that her eyes were even with his he gave her his sternest expression. "Now listen here, Evie, I'm your big brother and I said it is bed time. You don't want your mommy and daddy to come home and find you still awake?" He carried her over to the crib and lowered her down gently. "Now I mean it. Time to sleep."

He turned on his heel and motioned for Elsa to follow him out of the room. She flipped on the nightlight on her way out and slowly closed the door. "Will that work?" she asked.

"No," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Killian's about the only one who can get her to sleep. And it usually takes him a while too." He leaned his ear to the door and smiled. "Listen…"

Elsa assumed a similar position, cupping her ear against the white wood of the door. Inside she could hear little Eva babbling away and seemingly having her own party without them. "Does she do that for long?"

"All the time," Henry chuckled. "She's talking to her stuffed animals."

The two made their way to the living room where Henry had set up a movie and even finished popping some popcorn. Sitting down, he kicked his feet up on the table and rolled his head back onto the couch cushions. "We could go ahead and start watching a movie now," he said. "Or we can wait about 15 minutes for them to get back."

Elsa picked up the bowl of popcorn carefully and delicately selected a single kernel. "I didn't expect them back quite so soon," she said, looking to the clock over the fireplace. "Killian said they had big plans for tonight." She blushed and looked away from Henry, realizing that he probably did not want to know of his mother and stepfather's more amorous nature to their relationship.

The teenager looked a bit embarrassed himself as he turned the remote in his hand. "My mom kind of has her own plans," he said sheepishly. "I may have sort of overheard her on the phone."

Elsa considered that statement and pressed her mouth into a thin firm line. "May have overheard what exactly?" she asked. "Never mind. I don't think I need to know this. And your mother probably doesn't want you sharing that sort of thing."

"What?" Henry asked, his arms folding over the brown t-shirt her wore. "Oh no. It wasn't a sex thing, Elsa."

"In your mother's words…I'm not having this conversation," Elsa declared. She looked to him like a petulant child and for a moment he thought she was going to push her fingers in her ears and tell him that she could not hear him. "What your mother and Killian do in their bedroom is not my business or yours."

"I'm not talking about that…" he drawled out. "Do you think I want to think about that? I used to have to see Archie twice a week. I'd be there every day if I thought about my mom and Killian and my other mom and Robin…ewwwww. I don't need these images."

Elsa scrunched her eyes closed as if trying to unthink the ideas that just flashed in her head. She'd never heard the term brain bleach, but she was considering a visit to the rock trolls upon her return home. "I'm afraid to ask, but what exactly is your mother planning that you overheard?"

Henry sighed, looking toward the ceiling. "She had a doctor's appointment today," he said pointedly. When Elsa didn't respond, he continued. "There are clues and that was the biggest one. She's been sick in the morning – a lot. She's not drinking coffee and avoiding anything with caffeine, which has her in an awful mood."

Elsa's face went blank as she replayed the clues. "You think…"

"I heard her on the phone saying that the home test was positive but she wanted to confirm as soon as possible," Henry said with a certain confidence that only teenage boys seem to have. "So I don't think, I know." He might as well have said checkmate.

"Oh my," Elsa said, smiling. "And you think…"

"Killian doesn't know," he explained a little impatiently. "He was talking about some kind of wine or something to go with their dinner. Trust me. He doesn't know."

Elsa giggled. "You realize he's going to have that look again, right?"

Henry laughed too. "That one where he looks like he's been punched and won a million dollars all at the same time? Yeah, I'm thinking that's the look he'll have when he walks back in here."

The car door slamming outside was loud enough to alert them that Emma and Killian were right outside. Stifling their laughter, Henry scrolled through the movie selections and told Elsa about some of the latest releases she might like to see. They were on the third choice when Emma entered the room, dropping a kiss on her son's head and sitting down on the arm of the couch.

"You weren't waiting on us, were you?" she asked, pointing to the television. "I thought I told you to go ahead and have your movie night."

"We just couldn't decide what to watch yet," Henry said, looking innocently up at his mother. "Where's Killian? I thought he was with you."

Emma looked startled for a moment and looked over her shoulder to see her husband still lingering at the door. His eyes were still in that permanently surprised look with his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck nervously and he was smiling widely to absolutely nobody.

Elsa giggled and Henry swatted at her to keep quiet before he too dissolved into laughter.

_**Please leave a review. You know you want to do it. **___


	14. Epilogue

Killian glanced around the classroom and felt instantly out of place. Emma had done this a few times, parent teacher conferences with Henry's teachers and Regina. They had even attended one together for Eva at the same preschool. So when his son Liam's preschool teacher called that afternoon, he had thought nothing of it.

However, sitting in the pint sized chair with his knees practically touching his chin, Killian felt out of place. The teacher, a small red headed woman with a pencil behind one ear and glasses on her nose, ran into the room with a stack of papers. "Mr. Jones, right?" she asked. "Your wife usually picks Liam up, but I'm glad you could make it today."

Killian tried to smile despite the cramp in his leg from the horrible chair. "She's with our daughter getting her ready for a dance recital," Killian said, trying to keep his balance as he shifted his weight. "You seemed to indicate an emergency."

The teacher looked a bit embarrassed. "Yes, sir," she said. "It'll be easier if I show you." Dropping the papers on her desk and using her body to keep them from falling. "This way."

She led the pirate down the hallway past a few empty classrooms and toward the school's playground. Killian could see just a handful of children playing and a group of teachers in a semi-circle by a clump of trees. The teacher said nothing to him, her expression still worried as she ran her hand through the curly hair and seemed surprised to find the pencil there.

"Where is Liam?" Killian asked, his eyes scanning the children again for any sign of a blonde haired boy.

The teacher cleared her throat and pointed toward the semi-circle. Killian noticed that the teachers gathered there were all looking up with worried expressions of their own. Two were holding up their arms as though they might try to stop something from happening. Following their line of sight, he looked at the tree and inch by inch until he saw the flash of light that was the sun reflecting off the zipper on his son's jacket.

"Liam!" Killian yelled, rushing toward the tree where his son now sat 20 feet off the ground. "What are you doing?"

The red haired teacher flailed after him. "Your wife mentioned that he might have magical abilities," she said delicately.

Killian did not let his eyes leave his son, but still stopped and answered the woman. "Magic?" he said. "You think this is magic?"

She again cleared her throat, her face flushing as she craned her neck upward. "He couldn't have gotten up there without magic," she said. "It's the only explanation."

He shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. "Liam David Jones!" he yelled. "Did you…"

"Hi Daddy!" the little boy yelled, waving wildly.

For the first time in his life, Killian wished he had magic rather than Emma. With a few agonizing moments of negotiation and a threat about calling the fire department, he finally convinced his four year old son to poof himself down from the tree. The little boy's eyes were wide as his father wrapped him up in a hug and rocked him solidly for a few moments.

"I wasn't scared, Daddy," the little boy said. "I was just showing Mia."

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "What were you showing Mia?" The little girl seemed to be a hot topic of conversation. Mia held Liam's hand during circle time. Mia wanted to play on the slide so Liam played on the slide. Mia colored her sheet with purple so that meant Liam had to too.

"That you could climb a beanstalk," he said, looking at his father like there was no doubt about his actions.

"A beanstalk?" Killian asked. Then he remembered. Liam had been especially attentive during a recent re-telling of the story. With a groan, Killian looked at the blue eyes of his son and shook his head. "Did you impress her?"

"She was scared," Liam said, dropping his chin to his chest. "I don't think she liked it."

Killian smiled, knowing that he and Emma would be paying another visit to Mia's parents very soon. They had already been there twice to have discussions about the issues at school "Perhaps we should have a chat about this with your mother," Killian said. "You know you shouldn't use your magic that way."

"Yes," the little boy said, sounding remarkably sad and regretful. Liam looked back up and over Killian's shoulder at the blonde haired little girl who was currently hanging upside down on the jungle gym.

Killian glanced over his shoulder and saw the girl. "You do realize that chasing after a girl will get you in trouble?" The little boy's eyes widened, but he said nothing. "Come on. Let's get you home and ready for your sister's recital."

***AAA***

"You're going to lose your tiara if you keep bouncing like that," Emma said warningly, pulling at the tulle around her daughter's waist to make sure it was even. The little girl was as wiggly as a puppy and Emma struggled to keep her costume intact.

"How many people are going to be watching, Mommy?" Eva asked, her wide blue eyes showing inquisitiveness than fear. "More than 20?"

"You have almost that many watching you alone," Emma laughed, holding back her head to look at the dark haired girl totally dressed in pink. "You're not nervous, are you?"

"No," Eva said. "I can do it."

Emma sighed and sat back on her heels, her little girl no longer a baby. At six years old she was an independent and feisty little kindergartner. Long dark curls framed her face and deep set dimples were highlighted when she smiled. In her grandmother's words, the little girl was fearless and took on any challenge presented.

"You know I love you and so does your daddy," Emma told her as an older woman warned the parents to take their seats and leave all the little girls backstage. "We're very proud of you."

"I know," Eva said, circling her arms around her mom's neck.

Pretending that her hand wiping across her check was not an attempt to wipe away a tear, Emma slipped out of the room and down the hallway to the Storybrooke High School auditorium. Her husband winked at her as she dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out a tissue, unable to hold back those tears that had escaped. "Don't act like you won't be crying when she's on that stage," she hissed. "I know you."

He chuckled. "I'm not the one crying right now," he whispered, pulling her hand up to his lips and kissing it gently. "Is she nervous?"

Emma scoffed, pushing the tissue back into her pocket. "Seriously?" she asked. "This is your daughter. When she decided she wanted to learn to swim, she jumped off the side of the Jolly Roger and was swimming like a fish. You think a little public performance is going to worry her?"

"I suppose not," he said. "She's going to give me silver hair." He reached up and ran a hand through thick dark hair on his head.

"It would match your age," she said, settling back into her seat. Then she smiled at him fondly. "You'd still look good with it."

For such a small town, Storybrooke seemed to have everything that bigger cities had and then some. Though it was times like this that made Emma wonder what businesses were left open with more than three quarters of the population crowded into the school auditorium. Emma and Killian sat on the second row of the theater, Liam sat on his father's lap and giggled endlessly at the faces that his older brother Henry was making at him. While not as fearless as his older sister, Liam had the biggest heart of any child Emma had ever seen. He was crazy for any animal and was likely to cry himself if he saw his mother shed a single tear.

"Mommy?" he asked, looking at her damp eyes.

"Mommy's fine," she said, reaching out to run a hand through his golden mop of hair. "She's just being silly."

Mary Margaret and David were running late, but Elsa and Emma had saved them three seats so that Eva's grandparents and uncle could watch her first onstage debut. The three of them slid into the seats just as the lights flickered to indicate the show would be starting momentarily. Neal looked bored, but one stern look from David and he was smiling and grinning proudly at his niece's debut.

As the house lights finally dimmed a group of pink clad mini-ballerinas marched onto the stage. Eva was front and center with a beaming grin and a quick but not choreographed wave to her parents. Mary Margaret's camera got a work out as she snapped photos of the performance and her granddaughter. None of them were ready for Broadway, but Eva danced with enthusiasm in her pink leotard, tights, and tutu.

"Daddy!" she squealed after 45 minutes of varying levels of dance performances thrilled and entertained the full audience. She leapt off the final step by the stage and into Killian's waiting arms. "Did you see me?"

"Aye," Killian responded, lifting her up after he swung her around twice. "You were brilliant, darling."

She smiled proudly and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Mommy did you see my special part? I got to lead the front row on the stage."

Emma was helping her mother put Liam's arms through his jacket, the little boy fighting convention as was his trait. "Of course I did," she said smiling at the little girl. "Elsa and I thought you did a great job."

The little girl wiggled in her father's arms and twisted around to look at her godmother. "Elsa!" she screamed, making half the people around them turn and stare. "You came!"

"I wouldn't have missed it," Elsa said, holding a pretty bouquet of flowers and Eva's coat. "You'll have to teach me some of your dances sometime." She smiled brightly and handed Emma the little girl's coat. "That tiara looks very nice on you."

Emma rolled her eyes and held out the coat for her daughter who was sliding out of her father's arms toward it. "Don't even start that, Elsa," Emma cautioned. "You've been trying to put that thing on her head for years. Today and your wedding day are it."

"It's tradition," Elsa said, sidling up to her friend. "She's going to be my flower girl. I can't have a princess in the wedding without a tiara." Elsa's engagement ring sparkled on her hand and the blonde queen gave it a quick wave in Emma's direction.

Emma caught her hand and laughed. "You sure that's not just a piece of ice? It's a huge rock."

Coat on, Eva ran to her grandparents and received her congratulations, posing for photos as her grandmother clicked away. She even insisted on one with her Uncle Neal who managed a smile despite the overly girly circumstances.

"Celebration dinner at Granny's?" Emma suggested, pointing toward the door. Killian placed his hand on the small of her back and grinned, whispering something about her insatiable appetite. She elbowed him in the ribs and was talking with Henry about what to order as he carried Liam to follow the crowd out the door into the crisp night air.

Granny's was crowded, but per usual the elderly woman saved them a large bank of tables in the back and was sending Ruby over with their drink order before all the coats were removed. Emma buried her head in the menu as Eva showed her grandmother the tiara that Elsa had brought her on a recent visit.

"It's for a real princess," Eva said in a low voice as though it were a secret. "The other girls had plastic ones." Mary Margaret dutifully appeared to be impressed with this news. Liam on the other hand was not as impressed with his sister's accessories and was telling Elsa and David about the new puppy he wanted.

"Daddy said there wasn't enough room," he pouted, bottom lip stuck out and blue eyes shining brightly. The adults pointedly looked at Killian who just shook his head.

"Lad," he said warningly. "We've been over it before. No puppy." Killian to give his most fierce expressions, but it failed when his son gave an equally pleading one in return. "Not now."

Emma giggled and kicked him under the table. "Should I go get supplies this weekend? Are we going to have a dog?" She pretended to think a moment. "It might be a nice addition."

"Don't gang up on me with the children," Killian said, shaking his head sadly. "I can't say no to you or them when you all get together like that." David and Mary Margaret both laughed at his statement, as did Henry who was probably the instigator in the puppy scheme. He was constantly whispering to his younger brother and sister with suggestions of what they should ask their parents for in terms of gifts and rewards.

"You have a hard time saying no to me anyway," Emma laughed, kissing his cheek playfully. "Like when I steal half of your dinner tonight. You'll probably frown and act put out by it, but you'll eventually move your plate closer to me."

She was right. Every time they came to Granny's it was the same thing. She would hem and haw over the menu just to order a grilled cheese with onion rings. He would order the burger with fries. She would steal his fries and then refuse to give him an onion ring. He was happy to give her anything to make her happy, but she knew she gave as much as she got. There were no scorecards in happy endings.

Emma looked around the table. Her family sat there, stealing French fries, sipping on chocolate drinks, and taking photographs of each other like nobody would be able to remember the dinner in the years to come. They were talking about soccer games, karate lessons, and ballet recitals just as much as they talked about fencing, sailing, and archery. Emma could see a resemblance to herself in her mother and father. She could see a mixture of herself and Neal with Henry. Killian's features were copied in Eva's sweet face and her own features made an appearance in Liam's countenance. Even her friend was a part of things, another example of the duality that had marked her life in Storybrooke.

A happy ending was more than just walking off into the sunset with a person you love, she realized. It was being happy in the moments that were beautiful, crazy, angry, chaotic, mundane…It was about those moments that Killian and her father had spoken about. It was accepting the new and embracing the past without judgment. It was find a way to keep that past as a part of you when the new parts of life crowded it. It was a pirate who kept his love for the sea and adventure while loving his wife and children. It was a bandit who put her fear of rejection behind her to lead a town with hope and be the mother her grown daughter needed her to be. It was a shepherd who moved past his fear to instill values of diligence and dedication. It was a little boy who was growing into a man, who not only believed in the goodness of people and magic, but also taught her the lessons of how to forgive others. And maybe it was a rejected runaway and thief who quit running from fear and learned to face it.

_**A/N: This was a hard story to end. I wasn't really sure where I was going to go with it. Thank you for sticking with me through it. Thank your for your reviews, kudos, criticism, private messages, favorites, followings, suggestions, prompts, tips, and more. But mostly thank you for reading it and letting my words entertain you for just a little while. **_


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